Gravity
by Lucky Th13rteen
Summary: Ten years ago it was up to Isla Brandt to find Draco Malfoy in the maze of his mind and the trappings of time. Now through a line of unrivaled situations and improbable chances Draco has to find her again before they lose each other forever. SEQUEL TO "SOMEWHERE ONLY WE KNOW"
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfiction pleasure.**

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**Prologue  
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Once upon a time, seemingly too long ago, love existed in a rare state of happiness. It was a place Isla liked to call home. Every day, despite seeing him at work in the Ministry, and despite having her own flat to live in, she left the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley to Floo to Draco's cottage. When she didn't show up, he worried. And a fretting Malfoy was never a pleasant sight.

On this day in particular the sun was blazing and sweat dripped down her spine where cool air rushed in after the removal of her heavy maroon robes. The thin t-shit seemed to weigh too much and the cotton pants suctioned to her legs attested to the same thing. Blonde curls turned wavy from the moisture, Isla tossed her head as an empty Floo grate on the right appeared as an obvious choice for departure. Throwing the robe over her shoulder and grabbing a pinch of green powder, she tossed it to the floor as her vision swirled and her body was pulled into nothingness.

Of course Draco was already home. She could smell that instantly from the wafting scents of minty tea and warm scones. Legs stiff and tired from a boring day behind her desk, Isla slipped out of her shoes and distractedly flung her cloak at the couch before ambling through the living room to enter the kitchen. Slowly closing her blue eyes and inhaling thickly, she padded to the far side of the island as the strong smell of carryout resonated but opening her orbs again, she saw no white plastic bags or to go containers.

Then again, she didn't see Draco either. Stepping forward to reach into the cabinets for a clean cup and a jar of honey, Isla poured herself some tea, mixing her usual ingredients before taking a deep swallow of the warm liquid. Both hands wrapped around the hot cup and she took another sip as the drink soothed her frayed nerves. Leaning back against the marble counter top, Isla gazed out through the wall of glass into the side yard, her stare pausing when she noticed movement through the slightly fogged surface. When she gently wiped at the condensation, Draco's platinum head appeared into the small circle of clarity. An eager smile tugged at the corners of her plump lips, her heart jumping rapidly as her feet took on a mind of their own and walked outside.

He heard her approaching but Draco kept his back turned, fidgeting with a set of matches to light several small candles, and he felt her stop just behind him with her enamoring eyes glued to his broad shoulders.

"Decided to come home tonight?" He joked, his light tone repeating the phrase that he said every night when she came in later than normal, usually from a tedious assignment or strict orders for filled out paperwork from her boss.

"I guess so," Isla replied, her casual response belying the grin that held up her lips. "I guess something just - always brings me back to you."

Chuckling deeply, Draco rotated fluidly and swept his arms around Isla's curvy frame in the short distance from where she was standing. "Never takes you too long." And he dipped his blonde head to capture her mouth in a satisfying kiss that stole both their breaths and had them panting for air as they parted, identical smirks in place.

"Is all this for me?" She innocently questioned, staring over his shoulder at the romantically set table with a large bottle of champagne and plates full of deliciously appealing food. "What's the occasion?"

Draco trailed his large hands down the length of her bare arms, grasping her fingers tight as he moved to stand beside her, his left hand snaking around her waist to pull her closer to his side studiously ignoring the humidity and summer weather. "Can't a man show the woman he loves how much she means to him without it being a special occasion?" His words were rhetorical and he surmised she was not going to say anything snarky when he glanced over to see her gaping slightly, honey eyebrows raised in giddy surprise.

"Oh Draco," Isla groaned, pressing her breasts flush against his muscled chest and seizing his mouth in a passionate liplock. Her tongue slipped between their moving lips, tangling with his as her fingers found purchase in the thick blonde locks at his neck and he held her against him hips with large hands on her ass.

"Maybe dinner should wait. . ." Isla trailed off when Draco's mouth slid down her jaw and nipped at the soft flesh above her collarbones.

"But I - went - through so - much - trouble," Draco whined between bites along her neck.

"Well its loooooks like you didn't - need to."

He removed his mouth, tilting his head backwards to stare at her mockingly. "Are you trying to imply that I only did all this so you would shed your knickers at the end of the night?"

Isla cocked a golden eyebrows, sapphire gaze narrowed haughtily as she watched the grin cover his handsome face. "Draco - I love you," she started, tone evenly serious. "But it is too hot out here. I'm going inside," she removed his arms and stepped back, his steel eyes never leaving her stare as she slowly turned and began walking to the house. "If you want to join me - that's up to you."

A knowing smirk graced her features as Isla strode across the short yard, her hips swaying widely with each step. It was only seconds before Draco was running up behind her, his groping hands sliding across her stomach as his toned chest pressed against her back and his lips nipped at her neck.

"You don't have to tell me twice," Draco roughly stated, his voice husky with arousal as they pushed through the side door, cool air rushing around them as Isla turned in his arms.

The rest of the night was a blur, a tangle of naked limbs and sweating torsos as Draco and Isla showed each other just how much they loved one another. Silk sheets light against her bare skin, she nestled closer to him when exhaustion won out and they had laid down for sleep. His arm was possessively thrown around her waist and Isla haltingly stared as his grey eyes fluttered beneath translucent lids and his breaths puffed short from his aristocratic nose. The moonlight spilled through the open window and illuminated his fair skin, almost glittering in the faint light as he slept soundly. Her left hand deftly slid up their bodies to lightly trace the line of Draco's cheekbone, her amazement at his love bestowed upon her showing through. He was her angel, the universe's gift to her for her to cherish. Thumb grazing the plumpness of his lips, Isla rested her head against the soft pillow, eyes fluttering shut with a content smile framing her features as she joined her love in the land of dreams.

Without opening her eyes Isla felt for the warm body next to her, hand stumbling cross the soft distance until her finger tips reached a naked, solid mass. Smiling easily as she rolled her body closer, she inhaled slowly, her thoughts rolling over the many things she remembered Draco doing to her the night before, she could almost still feel his hands on her body. Fingers swiftly moving up his spine she was itching to grasp his blonde locks to turn his face towards her. But when her hand kept going up - and up - her eyebrows drew together and her eyelids slid open just as her fingers felt the short, thick locks of Thom. His darker skin was freckled and toned to perfection but completely wrong as the reality of the years and events that had transpired shattered her dreamlike memory. The untimely beating of her anxious heart suddenly plummeted, a gaping hole encompassing the wretched organ as Isla heaved a loud exhaling sigh, her hand pulling back and her eyes squeezing shut to hold back the tears that threatened to spill for her aching decisions and Draco's horrid choices.

She had kept Isabella hidden from her real father for many years but now that he had seen her, Isla was sure that Draco would do whatever it would take to find a place in her life. Somehow it did not comfort her to know that the man who had torn her heart and broken her true love fantasies would be returning to the picture. But - Isla too realized that she would still do anything to give into her desires to see that horribly handsome blonde wizard once more. And for their daughter, she would go to hell and back with him.

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**A/N:**

**Not sure when Chapter One will be ready. Find me one facebook and I'll keep you posted. **


	2. Predisposition

**Disclaimer: ****I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfic pleasure.**

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**(this picks up right where 'Trapped in Time' ended, fyi)  
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**Chapter One – Predisposition**

Astoria Malfoy was sitting alone in her husband's office, no lights on as she quietly waited in the shadows. It took all of her energy to remain awake, her lithe body weary after their long morning at the train station and her increasing daily level of tiredness, and she readjusted her slouching stance in Draco's large, leather chair as her crystalline blue eyes drifted over the darkened bookshelves and crevices along the far wall. Bitter anger soured her mouth and Astoria swallowed deeply to rid the taste of disgust from her palate as she glared at the pompous self-portrait hanging atop the fireplace.

_Malfoy's and their stupid pride,_ she scathingly thought, temper flaring as her fingers thrummed to life against her knee. Astoria had left the Platform after searching high and low for Draco, but he was nowhere to be found as she stood pathetically waiting for him to appear until she was the last person there. He knew how she felt about being alone in large, crowded places but still her husband had vanished as if he had never arrived with her to the station in the first place. This was supposed to have been a monumental day for their small family; Scorpius leaving for his First Year preluded an empty Manor for the distant spouses. She had hoped that this would be a chance for them to connect and finally grow into the love she knew they could share but all of that was wiped bitterly away as Astoria knew their one, very large obstacle must have appeared again.

However many years and however long it had been since he had seen her did not matter to Draco Malfoy when he was presented with the opportunity to see Isla Brandt. _Mercade now,_ Astoria thought spitefully_. That wench did one thing right in marrying that whelp of a politician. Her_ husband's long, lost love was still influencing their marital union and Astoria was finally to the point where she would not let the blonde witch ruin her happiness anymore. She had secretly known for many years that Isla's daughter, Isabella, was in fact Draco's child as well. That much had been obvious when she had stumbled upon the young girl waiting for her mother outside a dressing room, innocently watching the other customers walk by as she stood with her hands behind her back. Those large, startling silver eyes were instantly recognizable and Astoria knew in that moment that her marriage was doomed to fail.

Surely he had seen her at the Platform, both mother and daughter whom had so desperately avoided the blonde wizard over the many years. Draco had to have recognized his own features in the young girl and made the connection. Whatever hope that had grown roots in her heart was crumbled as Astoria felt a stabbing pain above her right breast. A slight hand rose to press to the flattened collar of her shirt, holding the pressured area until the jolt passed and she was able to exhale a heavy, worried sigh. Not one to think that her heart was actually breaking, Astoria furrowed her honey brows as her mind raced through the possibilities for the random chest pain.

Ashen head falling back against the protruding head rest, her icy blue eyes slid shut as a terrifying dizziness spun her vision and created a string of nausea in the pit of her stomach. Pregnancy was not a concern for the Malfoy wife who had not seen her husband's thick cock in many months so the other options seemed scarier, nothing that would not require a trip to St Mungo's at least. Her mother, Valentina Greengrass, had passed away several years ago from a mysterious disease that even the best wizarding doctors from around the world could not cure. Panicked notions told Astoria that she should have gotten checked out after her mother's sudden death and wild thoughts screamed that she could have the same predisposition. _I'm still so young,_ she thought forlornly_. My life can't be cut short now._ Mind swirling, everything turned a deeper shade of black in a slow, creeping motion until Astoria's snowy head fell to the side and a slight gasp passed her parted lips as she slipped into unconsciousness.

The slight tinkling of the jiggling locked doorknob jerked her from a restless sleep, crystalline orbs darting open as her chest fluttered with nervous panic. She could not tell how much time had elapsed since she had passed out but the pale moonlight falling through the large window told her it was still the same night and someone was trying to break in to the office. Astoria pressed her thin body to the leather chair in an effort to disappear into the fabric as the lock slid out of the door jam and the wooden door slowly creaked open. Her breath was held tightly in her lungs, daring not to inhale as a long shadow stood in the distant doorway. With all luck it was just Draco returning from a drunken anger trip but Astoria still waited cautiously as the broad shouldered man slowly strode into the room. He was halfway across the room when his knee ran into the corner of a large couch, a string of swear words erupting before the magically lit lamps along the walls burst to life with bright flames. Astoria was motionless in the large chair, fingers grasping the rounded arms to maintain a calm demeanor as Draco stumbled around the couch to loudly fall into the overstuffed cushions without looking around the office to notice his wife watching him.

He had his loose legs crossed at the ankle as he lay comfortably, silver eyes shut as his inebriated mind swam through the storm of thoughts and events that had led him to this point. Isla had once, not too long ago, been a distant memory and an out of reach fantasy and now she was realistically within his grasp again. Long fingers folding together over his liquidated stomach, Draco readjusted his scratchy, shoulder length locks around his neck as he inadvertently scooted his body further into a sitting position to clear the oncoming case of the spins that always accompanied his drinking binges. Only Isla had ever been able to reduce him to such a drunken state of self-loathing but he knew her reactions were minimal in comparison to his actions that had always catapulted her emotions. The appearance of his long lost daughter did not suffocate the problem, instead she fanned the flames as it were to be expected. A shrinking piece of him wanted to turn irate for Isla's deception; while a growing part of his mind told him that this was destiny and nothing could keep Isla from belonging in his arms. So caught up in his riddling musings, Draco was unaware of another person's presence in the office until Astoria drew in a hasty breath before softly speaking.

"You saw her today. Didn't you." The words were not a question, obviously stated to force his admission.

Draco hesitantly leaned forward, his silver gaze wandering around the room and finally landing on Astoria perched behind his expansive desk. In his altered state of mind, he thought to be anxious but no feelings developed as he blankly stared at his wife. A cold glare soured her beautiful features and as his knees bent towards his chest and his elbows rested on the tops of his thighs Draco tilted his head slightly with a sharp nod.

"And her daughter? You saw her too," she queried with a finishing statement.

Again, he nodded.

"I knew this day would come," she regretfully said, wearied sigh pulling her face into a pensive frown. "You never stopped loving her," Astoria quietly muttered, her blue gaze dropping to stare at the line of buttons running down his shirt. "One day you would see the truth and go running back to her. It was bound to happen."

Draco was still speechless, his mercury eyes focusing on her steady face as the sudden conversation dulled his liquored buzz. He could not deny her words, they were a reiteration of several phrases he had scornfully told her during the beginning years of their marriage when he had been less optimistic of returning to Isla. Letting his knees fall to the sides, Draco turned his hips until he was sitting properly astride the couch, his elbows returning to the top of his thighs as he held his shaggy head in one large palm.

"I'm not sure what to tell you," he finally said - his voice forebodingly calm as he tried to mend her wounds with his reasonable words. "If you knew she was my daughter, and you knew I was going to find out one day, what on earth possessed you to stay with me?" The question was rhetorical as Astoria parted her pink lips to respond when Draco kept talking. "You have known since the day we signed the marriage certificate in the Ministry of Magic that our union was solely for the purpose of our son. I would do anything for that boy," he promised vehemently, grey eyes boring into the marble top of a short table as he spoke honestly. "Including destroying the only love I have ever known."

Astoria was irritated into silence, her towhead bobbing forward precariously as a wave of dizziness twirled her mind. Draco's broad shoulders were more pronounced from the angle where she was sitting and she felt a longing stir of lust at the gentle rise and fall of his tapered, muscular waist. From the way his jaw was ticking and his ashy eyelashes were flickering, she could tell he was swimming through his thoughts, his tangled blonde locks falling over the rim of the collar of his black coat wistfully as if the wind had just finished blowing through the silky strands. His slim fingers were teepeed together with his thumbs pressing into the curves of his chin as Draco kept his stare forward, feeling Astoria's gaze on his silhouette and wanting to avoid the continuation of their conversation for a moment longer.

"I married you out of commitment to our child's well-being; I will always be in love with Isla," he commented bluntly when the noiseless room became deafening. "Had she not bore my other child - things would be different," Draco admitted cautiously. "I cannot promise you anything more than what I could when we first wed." He finally rotated his head until he met his wife's impassively fake stare, holding the gaze as he gently stated, "I will pursue her until she says yes. If nothing is to come of it, well - I would not expect you to wait for me but I can hope that you would be there if I needed you."

His combined sentences were partially the answer she had expected but her damned heart gave an anxious jerk when he had verbally committed to returning to her if Isla rejected him once more. Astoria's logical senses told her that she was too good to wait for any man, let alone her husband who loved another. And her quivering gut told her it could be worth it to hold out for the one wizard who had always made her feel complete despite his favored distance. The internal struggle was thinly veiled as her blue eyes danced between his unwavering silver orbs and her pursed lips tightened and loosened in a repeated motion. So little trust had been established in their relationship that promising herself to his possible, future interest seemed like a waste of time when he had openly admitted that he would pursue Isla until she was his again.

"I'll go stay with Daphne on the coast for a little while," Astoria softly said, her blue eyes drooping in slight sadness for her admitted defeat. "We can work this out properly so Scorpius will still be happiest. I do not wish to have him endure unnecessary hardships because his conception was a mistake. Our spilt will be amicable and he will be none the wiser."

Draco had attempted to interrupt her baldly truthful words but found he could not when he knew anything he said would merely be a lie. His son's birth had been a product of his lapse in judgment but the boy did not need to know his life was a daily reminder to his father of the things he should have had. No child deserved that emotional burden but he could not foresee a divorce where Astoria's vengeful story of their marriage's beginning was not told to their son. She did love him but Draco knew his wife was not above honestly slandering his name to win Scorpius' favor and come out on top in the end. He admired her for that - she would never let anyone harm their son and would give her life for that boy.

"I will be out of my quarters in a few days and you can go on to lead the life you so desperately crave," Astoria finished with a curt nod, the straight line of her mouth disapproving of any response he could make to persuade her otherwise.

When she hastily stood to move out from behind the desk and exit the room, a flash of dizziness brought blinking stars and black dots as Astoria wavered against the edge of the wooden desk and inhaled a sharp breath. Her thin frame now appeared even skinnier to Draco as he immediately jumped to his feet and stumbled around the furniture to reach her side. A large hand steadied her swaying form, his fingers gripping too frail hip bones as he leaned in to gently push his wife back into the large leather chair.

"Are you alright?" He asked, concern lining his brow as his grey gaze peered between her blinking blue eyes.

"What do you care?" Astoria automatically snapped, agitated irritation internally swearing at her error in allowing him to see her like this.

"You're my _wife," _Draco ground out. His thickly muscled arms coiled around his sides as he finally let his anger - for his past mistakes and his misjudgments for the day as a whole - roll across his body and he glared at the blonde witch who more often than not made his skin crawl. "Even if you don't care, I do." As one eyebrow vaguely cocked upwards in incredulity at his phrase, he shortly added, "Scorpius needs a mother. He would be devastated for you if something were to happen."

Raising her fellow eyebrow to meet the other halfway up her forehead, Astoria leaned her shoulders into the chair and crossed her arms to match his stance. Her weight pushed the chair back slightly and she used the little distance to tilt her blonde head back to stare at him in irate disbelief.

"I_ do_ care. That's why I am leaving you. I cannot stand to be in this house one more day to see you mourn the woman you single handedly destroyed." Watching him narrow his eyes at her as her voice rose and her tone grew with less room for an argument, she thrust her chin forward further and froze the steely calm that was brimming with anger. "If Isla loved you, she would not have kept hidden your child. She would not have not married that man and she would have done everything to keep you. There is nothing for you to find with her. And when you come back, empty-handed and broken hearted, I will be to the first person to say I told you so."

Draco felt his platinum head twirl with alcohol induced lightheadedness and raging fury. His wife or not, nobody would tell him that his aspirations were foolish nor that he could not find his happiness. A grudge filled sneer pulled up one corner of his top lip and Draco tightened his gaze until a thin horizontal line was all he could see. He knew there was really no room for him to argue, not after the many years he had mistreated Astoria, perfectly defining the idea of spousal neglect from ignoring her to only entertaining the idea of companionship when his dick craved attention.

"And you shouldn't worry your pretty little head about me divulging your dirty little secrets," Astoria chimed when the setting of his tense jaw clenched further. "The stress will only add to those horrendous wrinkles around your eyes."

"You wretched, conniving piece of -"

"Tsk tsk," she sounded, evil grin smearing her picturesque features as Astoria unwound her forearms and clapped her fingers together noiselessly. "You should know better than to anger the person holding the collar around your neck." Draco exhaled slowly, silver eyes pouring hatred at the witch as she, for once, merrily smiled at him. "When Scorpius is finished with the school year, he will return home with me and you will be allowed visitation if I think it suitable."

"Like hell!" Draco roared, his silence broken as wide palms held his arms open as if he were preparing to stretch his limbs backwards. "He's my son too!"

"And you have made it _crystal clear_ that he was the biggest mistake you ever made since the day he was born," Astoria seethed. Draco's defensive stance motivated her to stand her ground, moving lightning fast to jump to her feet without remembering what had just moments ago happened when she attempted the same thing. Biting words died on her tongue as her vision continued to bounce up and down, her snowy head evenly still as her brain seemed to rattle inside her skull. Everything grew heavy until Astoria's shoulders propelled forward and she swayed slowly, the sickening dizziness sending her careening into Draco's hard chest just feet away. His dissipating drunkenness altered his reaction time but he still grabbed for the falling witch with equal dexterity, cradling her against his ribs with sudden confusion.

"Astoria?" He meekly called, turning her head with the twist of his elbow as her eyelids fluttered over blank eyes.

"Love?" He tried again, softly to encourage her to reawaken as his spine bent and his free hand slipped under her useless knees to easily carry her light frame against his torso. Sudden haste eclipsing their heated conversation, Draco held his wife tightly as his feet swiftly rounded the other various objects in the office to stop in front of the couch he had just vacated, waist cinching forward to carefully deposit the frail witch on the overstuffed cushions.

"Love - can you hear me?" Draco called again, the heel of his shoes digging into the plumpness of his ass as he squatted to be eye level with the unconscious woman. "Astoria?"

Slight panic was taking roots in his gut and he was a second away from bolting upright to scream for a house elf when a soft groan escaped her lips, a gentle exhale rushing past her nostrils as she stirred groggily.

"Shhh - it's alright," Draco whispered, an elbow pushing between the couch pillows as he leaned forward to run the pads of his fingers over the sides of her face. "I'm here, love."

Astoria barely rotated her blonde locks, her neck angling so her vision blurred beneath the fringe of her eyelashes as she hesitantly blinked.

"Draco?" She half asked with confusion. "What happened?" She muttered roughly, an errant hand moving to approach her still spinning head before he softly laid his palm over her wrist and pressed the limb to her torso.

"You tell me," he responded curiously. "What just happened to cause you to pass out like that?"

A vague recollection of their argument surfaced on the winking edges of her memory and Astoria gently squeezed her eyes shut as a frown turned down the ends of her lips. When she reopened the blue orbs a tinge of guilt circled her eyes and she felt an anxious weight drop into her stomach under his hot touch on her arm.

"Do you remember when my mother. . . . died?" She started cautiously, vision shut again as the pressure on her wrist from his fingers tightened slightly. A silent nod from Draco jostled her position and she took the small cue to continue. "After she. . . passed, the doctors encouraged Daphne and I to get examined - find a way to figure out if what caused her death was hereditary. They were hopeful that it was just a strand of a random virus that she had picked up while traveling but you can never be too careful they warned."

"I don't understand," Draco thoughtfully murmured, his silver eyes contemplative as his golden eyebrows furrowed together.

"I have all of her symptoms," Astoria explained lightly, her voice remaining calm to keep the depressing truth from sounding so real. "Everything she complained about before her last collapse that took her to St Mungo's - I can list them off. Whatever killed my mother is coming after me now."

Draco was stunned by her words, a boulder of heavy sadness colliding with his chest while a part of him was relieved that it would be easier for him to carry on with Isla when the time came. He then felt a twist of guilt for being inwardly thrilled at his wife's decaying health and closer approaching death. _What kind of sick fuck is happy when someone tells them they have a terminal disease,_ he thought, half disgusted by his notion - half satisfied when he did not question the fact that he knew how tortured he was inside. _How did I ever get two women to fall in love with me?_ Draco silently queried, that split second of self-doubt evaporating as his stubborn pride went into overdrive.

"You won't leave then," he said with no time for her to refuse his statement. "You are not going anywhere if something this dire is happening in your body. I will call in the best Mediwizards and they will find out what's wrong with you."

Astoria weakly smiled, her hand turning over underneath his as Draco clasped their fingers together, suddenly the loving and caring husband that he had never shown her he could be.

"Everything will be fine," he promised and brought their joints hands to his mouth to kiss the backside of her palm with his mercury gaze trained to her blue orbs.

She did not want to break the placid environment but the question was barking at her mind and Astoria blurted it out before she could think twice. "Are you still going to pursue Isla?"

He had to look away, Draco could not lie to her when her clear eyes were imploring him to say no. Closing off his emotions and blanking his face into an empty mask over a long blink and a thudding heartbeat, he glanced back up to stare impassively at Astoria's hopeful gaze.

"That can wait until after we talk to the doctors," he neutrally stated, keeping his vision straight so as to not persuade her to think otherwise.

Astoria lit up like a child on Christmas, the burgeoning smile pulling at her pink lips and showing the ridges of her white teeth belying her recollection of their recent marriage ending conversation. She attempted to scoot backwards on the cushions to sit up but Draco held their hands firmly against her waist to hold her in place and stay her movements.

"Sit still," he commanded. "I'll have Fredrique take you upstairs so you can rest."

"No - I'll be fine," Astoria protested but Draco dismissed her statement and snapped his free hand, a momentary pause silencing the room before a loud pop sounded the arrival of the house elf.

"Yes, Master?" The old elf asked humbly, his long nose almost reaching the carpeted floor as he bowed before Draco.

"Fredrique take the Lady to her chambers and make sure she is completely comfortable. And send Mopsey up too. She will be caring for the Lady while she is ill."

The elf did not question his orders, long used to the Malfoy family's tendency for secrecy. "Yes sir," Fredrique wheezed and promptly hurried to stand next to Draco, his gnarled fingers hovering over their clasped hands as he glanced to the wizard.

"Oh - right," he absently muttered and removed his fingers from her grasp. "Sleep well, love," he stated as Fredrique placed his hand where Draco's had just occupied and cleared his throat impatiently.

"Thank you," Astoria gratefully replied and he had to force the tight smile onto his features as she tiredly grinned, gone in a flash as the elf Apparated them upstairs. Draco sighed heavily and leaned forward, his silvery head falling to the warm pillows as his grey eyes shut in exhaustion. His body ached, weary from an emotional day that beat down the Malfoy wizard and spent from trying to hide his high level of intoxication in front of his irate wife. Her illness was just another thing that he could add to his mounting pile of worries.

Somehow he could not help but to think of Isla as his thoughts spun out of control. Laying halfway onto the couch, Draco foolishly grinned sideways into the crease of the cushions as he ambled through the mental of images of the curvy witch from earlier that day at the train station. She had been breathtaking, still strikingly gorgeous with a long mane of wavy blonde curls that spiraled near her flawless face. Her sapphire eyes would always be imprinted in his brain but Draco clearly saw her long lashes bat playfully as the deep ocean orbs rotated flirtatiously. A jolt of electricity shot to his groin at the mere thought of how it felt when he had touched her, even though it had just been her knee the warming sensation still resonated. As his mind wandered to remembering how her naked body felt beneath his wandering hands, Draco had to adjust his knees, spreading them to lessen the pressure growing in his pants. Finding the urge to unfasten his belt and free his hardening member to wank off at the mental pictures of Isla that he still vastly remembered, Draco hastened when he realized both his arms were dead weight from the position he had been sitting in and his shoulders ached already from the awkward arrangement.

Grimacing as his joints sparked with momentary pain at movement, he shuffled his knees and propelled his hips up to turn sideways and sit on the edge of the couch. Grinning once more as his eyes remained shut and he saw Isla behind his closed lids, Draco ran through his morning at the train station all the way until the instant he realized Isabella was his daughter. Her sweet, cherubic face and familiar silver eyes dominated his thoughts and Draco felt the yearning to see the child, to get to know her to make up for the years he had missed. He errantly wondered if she had ever thought that Thom Mercade was not her father but disregarded the notion when he remembered that she was only eleven.

Perhaps his daughter was inquisitive though and had figured out that the man raising her probably despised everything about her. Especially since her startling eyes were constant reminders of the blonde wizard.

Sitting up straight before rising to his feet and standing, Draco sluggishly trotted back to his large desk and sat down with an echoing plop. This may be a drunken idea but he had to meet his child, the one blip of happiness that had dissolved too quickly when they had been trapped in the sixteenth century, he had to find a way to win the favor of both mother and daughter to show them he was not the man he once was. _Probably worse off now,_ Draco inwardly bantered with himself, chuckling at his reminiscent pondering.

All inklings of thoughts of Astoria were banished as he languidly reached for a loose piece of parchment and quill to pen Isla a short missive. Draco wanted to do this the right way - woo her over with his charming affections and make her see why she had loved him all those years ago. Dipping the pointed, metal end of the writing utensil into an open pot of black ink, he dripped off the excess liquid before raising the tip to the soft piece of parchment.

_Isla, _

_We should meet at once. There are many things we need to discuss and I do not need to elaborate any half-truths by saying that I want to see my daughter. _

_I will be at the Lion's Den in Muggle London at 3 o'clock next Wednesday, the 9th. Please come see me so we can speak. _

_I know I screwed it up - but I will always love you.  
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_Draco_

Staring at his neat, slanted handwriting, he hastily added a short _I miss you_ in the space before his name and folded the parchment into an even square, fishing in the top right drawer for an envelope and a small pot of wax. Locating both items, Draco stuffed the letter inside but rashly pulled it back out, unfolding the creases as he produced his wand from a pocket down his thigh. After a moments remembrance he uttered a concealment charm so only Isla could read his words. Tucking the paper back into the envelope, Draco heated a glob of wax and dripped an ample amount onto the pointed flap, fisting his right hand to press the Malfoy seal into the hot liquid as it quickly dried.

Turning the light object over in his palms, Draco let it fall to the middle of his desk as he stood from the leather chair and stretched lengthily. He would send the letter in the morning instead of the middle of the night when Isla would not get it. Thoughts greedily recovering memories of passionate nights and rushed mornings, Draco sidled around his desk and lazily walked to the short double doors leading out of his office.

Tomorrow he would start his mission to recapture the heart of the blonde witch who had encompassed his brain for over a decade and whose love he was predisposed to like an infant to a mother's breast. Draco Malfoy never shared, not any woman and certainly not his child. He was going to be happy again and Isla had best be ready for the hurricane of actions Draco was prepared to go through in order for that to happen. One way or the other, he would have everything he wanted. That was just how his cards were always dealt.

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**A/N:**

**Thank you for reading! This is the first of many, many more chapters and I am so excited to delve into the depths of this story and revisit the world of Draco and Isla.  
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**Find me on Facebook for updates and a better timeline of posts and whatnot.  
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	3. Flightless Bird

**Disclaimer: ****I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfic pleasure.**

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**Chapter Two – Flightless Bird**

As hard as she had tried, Isla Brandt had never been able to stop loving Draco Malfoy. She had done everything to get over the arrogant, selfish, handsomely devious wizard, going so far as to marry the only other man who had ever mattered to her, but each and every day when she saw her beautiful daughter, Isla grieved a little more for the wondrous love that had been taken from her. For a short period of time, Thom Mercade had made her happy but it was only after they had agreed to try to fix their crumbling marriage that the birth of their son, William, created a joyous atmosphere in their lives. Those years were short-lived as Thom grew to favor his biological child as the boy aged through adolescence. The young couple argued continuously – usually about the long standing grudge he held against Isla for her past indiscretions, for the settlement she had taken when she began a relationship with her ex-Unspeakables partner. And the one topic that she defended and used to threaten him when he came too close to actually being a bad spouse, and he berated her for when there was nothing else to bicker over, was Draco.

Thom would throw it in her face that the Malfoy had so carelessly let her get away, at first in terms of endearment to make her see that he was a better man but then used as a barb to hurt her when Isla seemed emotionally impenetrable. Everything became empty as the marriage she thought would save her life and her broken psyche ended up numbing her to the point of depression. Postpartum was not the issue for Isla; it was the fact that now she really was tied to Thom for the rest of their son's life, despite their push for a child and her anticipation following her pregnancy. It had all spiraled out of control with Isla left wondering how she could fix her life without completely erasing everything and everyone she knew.

But Draco knowing about Isabella, that they did in fact have a child together, changed all the rules. A crushing guilt had been removed from her conscience earlier when he had recognized his own features in the young girl, a sudden relief that was short-lived once Draco vehemently glared at her and Thom shot her a disgusted stare before pushing Isabella onto the train. There had not been a moment to spare for her to turn to Draco and mutter a rushed apology or string together a rapid excuse as Isla hurried after Thom and William as they hastened towards an open Floo grate. The two men were just in front of her when they disappeared in a flash of green smoke and that prolonged second was enough of a lapse for Thom to hurry away by the time Isla was stumbling through the fireplace and turning into their kitchen.

William was sitting on a bar stool next to the marbled island, their small house elf, Barney, scurrying around to fix the boy a meal.

"Momma!" He called excitedly, looking up from interestedly watching the creature. "Can we go to the park?"

Forcefully smiling gently, Isla spared a glance at him before peering around the spacious kitchen as if Thom was hiding somewhere.

"Where's your father?" She responded instead, anxious tone prompting her son to scrutinize her rigid posture and wide, panicked eyes.

"I dun know," William innocently said, curious green eyes blinking as Isla paced towards the opposite end of the kitchen. "He was goin' to his offish. Momma, can we go to the park?"

"Not today, baby," she admitted, barely pausing as she pushed through the swinging door to hurry down the hallway leading to Thom's study at the very end.

The large wooden door was completely shut and no light was peeking through underneath the seam of the frame, allowing Isla to think that William had been mistaken and Thom had indeed left the house like she suspected. However, the brass handle was firmly locked in place and no amount of turning the knob opened the door. Retrieving her wand, Isla pointed the tapered end at the small keyhole, running over a list of unlocking charms as the door held its place and remained undisturbed. Grunting in frustrated irritation, she hurriedly whispered the strongest spells she could think of, only to push her shoulder against the door once more when nothing happened.

"Thom! Let me in! We need to talk!" Isla shouted, one hand fisting to pound on the carved surface to alert him to her presence in the hallway. "Please! Open up! I need to talk to you!"

There was no response and absolute silence met her ears as she attempted to gain entrance, nothing working until she sighed in relieved agitation, hopeful that another, knock down drag out fight was, for now, put off but still anxious for the repetitive argument. She was not sure how much of her interaction with Draco Thom had actually seen but any contact with the blonde wizard sent the dark haired man into a tailspin, even though her proximity to the Malfoy on Valentine's Day had truly been the first time they had conversed in over a decade. It did not matter since Thom was completely aware of Isla's secret devotion to the man and spitefully mentioned as much.

Trudging back down the hallway to amble into the kitchen she plopped down onto a wooden bar stool next to William as the young boy quietly sat finishing his lunch.

"Would Misses like me to prepare a meal?" Barney asked meekly, his large green eyes blinking patiently as Isla briefly glanced at the short creature standing just beside her.

"No, that's alright," she replied with an exhaling sigh, "Thank you though." The house elf nodded in understanding and snapped his fingers, disappearing elsewhere into the house.

"Momma," William blankly called, his tiny fingers picking up the remaining potato crisps off his plate. "Why da you and daddy fight so much?" He asked with no malice, as only a child can.

Twisting her shoulders to face her son, Isla pressed an elbow onto the marble counter, placing her head sideways in her palm as she thoughtfully stared at the boy, his shining emerald eyes trained to her as if she held all the answers in the world.

"Is it because oh 'sbella?" William prodded, his rosy cheeks bubbling as he forced his soft lips into a straight line. "She's at school now - you don't have ta fight," he seriously consoled, a small hand reaching forward to gently lie on her upper arm, his young maturity showing through as the boy of seven attempted to comfort his heartbroken mother.

"Oh sweetie, you shouldn't be worrying about these things. Your father and I. . . we just get upset sometimes. It has nothing to do with you or your sister."

William did not look convinced but nodded mutely anyways, his head of dark curls bouncing shortly as he carried on his captivating stare.

"How about we go to the park tomorrow?" Isla attempted to sound cheerful but she knew the smile was false as William lightly cocked his head to the side, assessing what else he could guilt out of his mother from his parents behavior that day. "We can go to Diagon Alley too if you like. I know the ice cream parlor probably has your favorite flavor now - peppermint."

Suddenly lighting up with persuaded attention, William parted his lips to show his tiny, white teeth and smiled happily, serious demeanor replaced by his preferred childish personality.

"Can we go to th' 'oke shop?"

"Anywhere you want to go, baby," Isla responded, satisfied in knowing that at least one person in her life was easy to please. "Why don't you go upstairs to your playroom? I'm sure Barney would love to play dolls with you."

"Momma! They're not dolls!" William protested, his scant eyebrows furrowing in disagreement. "They're action figures!"

Light banter easing her worries, Isla chuckled, patronizing as she amended, "Oh yes - action figures."

Rotating around to hop off his stool, William looked all of a little man as he grumbled incoherently, strutting out of the kitchen to presumably go upstairs and occupy himself. Isla shook her head in amusement, watching the swaying door come to a close before the silence of the room echoed in her head and she wearily sighed. So many decisions now weighed on her conscience, knowing that Draco had unmasked her long held secret and accepting that he now had a reason to come for her, for them, when she had hidden that truth from him before. The choice presented itself now to choose between the life she was forced to live through currently and the path that had been erased from her options so long ago. Draco had promised that he does, and always will, love her and that sentiment alone, after almost a dozen years and two obviously failing marriages, captured her mended heart in a strong, frenzied rhythm.

The portion of her brain that had at first loathed Draco for his scandalous choices and cheating actions had at some point begrudgingly forgiven him for his indiscretions and reverted its decision, steadily coming around until all of her was craving the blonde wizard and denying her husband the fantasies she imagined portraying with the other man. Isla felt horrendously guilty, ultimately equal with Draco on the level of adultery because of her lusting for another than her husband. But she couldn't help it - something about the blonde wizard, maybe it was the distance between their last and most recent encounters, lifted her spirits and made her forget that there were other concerns than being with that person.

A feeling that she too had associated with flying in the past.

Gazing out the wide picture window from the kitchen into their backyard, Isla knew she would feel the utter warming of the sun should she move to stand in front of the glass panels, or better yet, if she went outside. Even from her seat several meters away, she could see distant birds hovering in flight, their wings distinctly broad and unencumbering as they circled high in the sky. A notion she had quelled for many years, alongside with her desire for Draco, was the action of transforming into her Animagus and flying freely. Her golden hawk form often reflected in the mirror when Isla thought she truly was going insane, her inward need to get away surfacing in the image of her avian counterpart.

Emboldened from setting some truths loose that day, Isla rashly jumped off her seat and rushed out the side door, relaxation immediate as an autumn breeze licked at her golden curls and brushed past her growing smile. Nerves turned her gut in a large wave as her stumbling feet paused, spontaneity faltering and a frown covering her grin at the maddening realization that her avian form had not appeared since before Isabella's birth. That too had been hidden away, a forgotten talent and pastime of hers that was locked up to keep her sanity together.

Pushing her chin forward, Isla began a furious stride that took her to the far edge of their property where a few sparse trees surrounded a small pond. The setting was perfectly hidden from all windows of the house so long as she stayed to the far side where the shade blocked the view. Somewhat at a loss as to how she should go about this, Isla slipped her thick robe off her shoulders and folded it neatly, placing it up against the roots of a tree before she steadied her stance and took a calming breath, blue eyes shutting as she focused her concentration. Clearing her mind was easy but drawing up a clean cut image of her hawk proved more difficult as Isla squinted her eyelids and twisted her pink lips, forging through the sea of mental pictures until she thought she found the right one.

Bracing her limbs she inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly as the spine tingling beginnings of the transformation started. It felt all wrong though as a burning pain followed the slight shivers, her bones too hesitantly contracting as the image jumped in her mind. Howling in anguish, Isla fell to her knees, palms fisting in cold dirt as her chest heaved and her back ached where the process had haltingly started.

"Fuck," she swore loudly, the wind returning in a low rustle in response.

Pushing backwards to sit on the balls of her feet, Isla laid her hands across her thighs, grabbing the meaty flesh as her shoulders leaned forward and her blonde head swayed slightly.

"I just want to fly," she moaned pitifully to the empty scene. "I just want to get away from here."

She attempted several times to stand in order to try the transformation again but each movement increased the dizziness until Isla had to lower herself back to the ground. When the sun had moved halfway across the sky and was a quarter of its daily journey from setting, she forced her legs up after a resting repose and shakily stood. Repeating the breathing mantra, Isla spread her arms in preparation for her wings to appear and let her eyes slid shut as the crystal image of her golden hawk found its way to the foreground of her thoughts.

The searing pain relapsed as the transformation began its magic and Isla gritted her teeth, determined to bear through the suffering until she met her end goal. _Almost there,_ she thought hopefully as she felt her body begin to shrink and morph. But it was half way finished when her internal mantra of _come on, come on,_ was interrupted with a quick flash of Draco's handsome face. The jolt was enough to stop the process and jar Isla's mind as she rapidly changed back into a woman completely. She saw stars when her knees went weak and she collapsed to the grassy earth, everything slowly going black as she gave way to unconsciousness.

Bolting upright, the darkened night sky sent a panicked flutter through Isla's chest as she glanced around the banks of the pond, confused as to why she had woken up outside before the memories of her failed flight attempts resurfaced. An aching bump on the back of her head brought one hand up to gently feel the reminder of what she had been doing, inwardly cursing herself for trying to transform into her Animagus when she had been so upset. Tossing her blonde curls over her shoulders, Isla steadily crouched to stand up, taking her time in drawing herself up to her full height as the ground seemed to sway underneath her. The chilly evening breeze tore past her frail body and she languidly bent to retrieve her robes, slipping her arms inside the sleeves before pulling the lapels tight around her waist.

_This has been one hell of a day,_ Isla thought wearily, cautiously stepping over gnarled tree roots as she made her way out of the small wooded enclosure to pace back across their backyard to reach the house.

The large estate was completely dark, save for a lone window on the bottom corner at the far end of the home that was lit up with a pale glow. Thom was certainly still barricaded in his office, an errant shadow removing itself from the glass panes as she walked closer, allowing her to think that her husband had been watching her throughout the day. _He probably thinks I took off for the day - gone to find my lover, I'm sure. _It did not matter what Thom suspected or insinuated now, Isla was too exhausted to care if he even left his study for sleep or if he was angrily waiting for her when she eventually slipped into the kitchen.

The entire house was pitch black, already asleep as she noiselessly meandered through the hallways to reach the curving staircase leading upstairs. Her feet automatically carried her down the corridor to her children's bedrooms, a hand curling around the doorknob to Isabella's room before she sadly remembered the girl was away at Hogwarts now. The lock jiggled in its frame when her fingers slipped off the metal handle, lightly swaying in place as Isla heavily proceeded down the hallway to gently open William's door. His head of dark curls caught the moonlight streaming in through the window and she silently crept across the boy's room to lightly sweep her fingers across his pale forehead. The usual overwhelming sense of loving pride enveloped her chest and Isla sighed softly, her blue eyes watering with misplaced tears as she gazed at her young son. There was so much left for her to still lose, the sleeping boy a reminder that while not everything had gone according to plan in her life, some things were irreplaceable once they had occurred.

William shifted in his slumber, rolling onto his side so his cherubic face was turned away from Isla and she quietly picked herself up off the edge of his bed to cross the room and slip out the door, silently closing the wooden frame as she held herself against the entryway with great effort. The old grandfather clock on the stairs landing chimed the late hour of the early morning darkness and Isla tiredly squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to gain a small amount of strength that would carry her to the end destination of her own bedroom. Trudging down the hallway, feet dragging in the plush carpet as she went, Isla shrugged a shoulder against the larger door at the end of the corridor, pushing lightly until she was standing in the outer sitting room of the master suite.

Her robes were discarded once more, coiled on the floor as they were soon followed by a pair of leather boots, wrinkled jeans, a slightly dirty shirt, and sweaty undergarments. Isla felt her mental and physical exhaustion weighing heavier and she was barely standing next to the large bed when her knees wobbled, propelling her forward to slowly crawl underneath the thick covers and get into bed as her dizzy head met the silky pillow with a muffled plop. Thom's absence was a happy relief as she shifted around until her naked body was curled sleepily in the middle of the spacious mattress, blue eyes already tightly shut as the desire for sleep closed in like a black cloud blocking out all of the sun, snores shortly heard as she effortlessly slumbered, allowing the day's events to slip away as heady dreams rolled in.

Thom was still holed up in his office the next morning when Isla breezed downstairs closer to noon than to sunrise, presumably having slept on the expensive leather couch he had insisted on buying. Having sent Barney to dress William for the day and entertain him for a bit, she directly went to the kitchen to make a quick breakfast of an egg sandwich before neatly preparing an egg in the hole for her son, his galloping trot echoing through the house as he hurried downstairs.

"Momma! Momma!" He yelled enthusiastically.

"G'morning, love," Isla greeted with an easy smile, turning back to the frying pan in her left hand as she deftly scooped the egg off the hot surface to place it over the circular opening down the middle of two slices of toast on a readied plate. "Eat up," she encouraged, sliding the flatware across the island as William eagerly grabbed the moving object. A fork levitated to his waiting grasp from a nearby drawer, his mouth full as the little boy shoveled the food inside and she returned to the stove top to pile the dirty dishes carefully and place them in the metal sink.

"Can we go ta Dragon Alley first, momma?" William begged once he had rapidly cleared his plate. "Pwease."

Isla had already precisely thought through their plans for the day; it wasn't that she didn't love spending time with her son, she would just rather that he be exhausted after their outing instead of her. Which was why she had decided they would go to the park first, giving the boy a chance to wear himself out with her providing minimal effort.

"But I thought you wanted to fly your broom," Isla half questioned, completely innocent as her blue eyes widened. "Daddy won't let you play with it here," she reminded him, not a single trace of guilt showing as she gently bribed her son with their excuse to get out of the house for a little while.

"Alrigh'," William finally allowed, his small face growing serious as he looked every part the spitting image of his father. "But I still wanna go ta th' 'oke s'op."

"Oh we will, baby," Isla promised, her lips holding a tight smile to keep her mouth from expanding too largely at the boy's expense. "Are you ready to go? I already brought your broom inside."

Glancing around until he spotted the child-size broom, William rushed off his chair to pick up the magically enhanced toy near the side door, holding it to his chest with a grin as Isla took that as her cue that he was ready to leave.

"Where's your coat?" She prodded, picking up her cloak from where it was folded over the back of a chair, sliding it on as an example for William as he shortly frowned, looking again until he saw his coat hanging just behind him on a rack. Setting the broom aside, he made quick work of adorning his puffy coat and zipping up the fastenings.

"And your hat?"

William sighed irritably but jumped up to knock his matching beanie off the peg, pulling the stretchy fabric over his head and glancing at his mother.

"Now can we go?"

Striding forward to open the door with a satisfied smirk in place, Isla held it ajar as William roughly grabbed for the broom as he strutted through the entryway. She flicked her wrist at the lock once they were outside, listening for the barely audible click before progressing towards her son with an outstretched hand. His shorter arm reaching up to grasp her palm, Isla gripped William's small hand tightly as she imagined their destination and in a spilt second they disappeared with the crack of Sidelong Apparation.

The Wizarding Park was on the west side of London, safely hidden from Muggles and relatively spacious. Developed in the years following the Great Battle, the park stood as a testament to the survivors and a memorial to those who had fallen. Prominently displayed in the very center of the magical preserve was an enormous statue depicting the great Harry Potter bravely posed for a fight. Manicured flower beds and trimmed hedges surrounded each statue of a war hero, open grassy land expanding around the notable figurines where children ran and played while their parents kept an eye on them from the shaded memorial benches.

Not a cloud dotted the clear blue sky as Isla and William entered the park, the young boy eager to have some flying freedom and hurrying off to see what the other children were doing, the short handle of his broom slapping against his legs as he ran.

"Be careful!" She called but he barely heard her, throwing up a waving hand behind his back to appease her in response.

Isla nodded to the fellow parents, smiling politely when someone shared the gesture as she leisurely strolled around the edges of the gardened statues. Spotting a lonely bench on the very far reaches of the park, shaded nicely by two leaning oak trees, she meandered to the seat, hands stuffed in her cloak pockets as the seasonal breeze ruffled her curls and swayed the fabric of her clothing. Making sure she had an excellent view of where William was playing, mindful to watch more closely once he mounted his broom, Isla relaxed into the solid frame of the wooden seating, letting her legs stretch out as her hands folded over the slight rounding of her stomach.

Light rustling above her caused her head to twisted backwards to peer up into the tree to her right, blue eyes curious as her ears heard vibrant chirping. Cooing softly, Isla hoped the noise would draw the birds out from the tree branches but it only succeeded in pushing them into flight as their wings moved the limbs and they darted through the treetops. With a breathy exhale she tilted her neck back, gaze following the pair of birds as they spiraled upwards then turned south to speed away into airspace unknown.

_If only it was that easy for me,_ Isla thought morosely, already starting the pity party for herself over the growing list of things in which she was failing. Her mind wandered in the most self-deprecating way possible, inner ramblings almost turning vicious as Isla mentally expanded on every little detail of every important instance or memory that had led her to this moment exactly. Every scene played out in her mind's eye, scenarios popping up as to how she could have done things differently and how those differences would have affected her now. What if she had not wasted all those months when she and Draco had time traveled, and she had boldly retrieved the pendant before those circumstances had divided them? What if she had not agreed to live with Thom during the remainder of her pregnancy once she had returned, ultimately leading to their mistaken marriage, and had instead raised Isabella alone?

Either way any of the scenarios played out, Draco had been fated to leave her. A cosmic force had pulled them apart, a life line left stringing them together in the form of their daughter to eventually draw them back to the other. It was cruel, in all reality - their mind blowing romance ripped away only for her to have a daily reminder of how things should have been. Life wasn't fair. Her life was supposed to have gotten easier, the arrivals of children and the many years spent with a marital partner were meant to be filled with love and joy. Instead Isla felt she had gotten the short end of the stick and was being forced to pay for her misdeeds through tragically long days of unhappiness.

Her scathing thoughts must have sent her into a dozing respite because the next thing she knew her head was jerking forward after falling against her chest, light scratchings catching her interest as her sapphire eyes blinked open. William was sitting on the ground at her feet, broom off to the side as he swirled a stick lazily through the dirt. From the suns lowered position in the sky Isla guessed they had been at the park for a handful of hours and judging by the wide yawn pulling open his mouth, she guessed he was expectantly tired from his free playtime.

"You ready to go home, little man?" Isla groggily asked, a hand raising to swipe along the outline of her eyebrows as she attempted to bring alertness back to her senses.

William nodded wordlessly, gazing up at his mother with large green eyes before he crawled backwards to awkwardly pick up his broom and shakily stand.

"Come on," she stated, standing fluidly to bend at the waist to slip her hands underneath his armpits, lifting the small boy to rest against her hip as he wrapped his legs around her waist. His small hand grasped the handle of the toy broom effectively, the bristles brushing against Isla's ass as she began steadily walking towards the park exit, William's head of soft curls resting sideways on her shoulder as his little body melted around her frame. He was almost fast asleep as she carried him, jolted awake though when they Apparated once more, arriving easily in their own backyard in a moments flash.

Barney was waiting to take William upstairs when they trotted through the side door, jumpy as he took the child's weight from Isla before scurrying out of the kitchen. Furrowing her eyebrows in contemplation as to why the elf had been so openly nervous, the answer became quite clear when she turned the corner to peer about the spacious room, suddenly noticing Thom silently sitting at the square table pressed along the glass window. Several pieces of mail were stacked neatly in front of him but one letter was torn open, envelope covered by the folded piece of parchment.

"I didn't expect to see you today," Isla said shortly, dismissing his heavy stare as she began walking across the room to start a pot of tea.

"Why not?" Thom sharply replied. "I am your _husband."_

She noiselessly and slowly counted to five, allowing the silence to lengthen as she mentally justified her anger and begrudgingly saw the righteousness in his fury.

"No reason," she mumbled, avoiding his gaze as she prepared a cup of tea, knowing the heat on her back was from his murderous stare. Curiosity got the better of her and she leaned backwards against the marble counter top, bringing the steaming cup of tea up to her lips to daintily take a small sip, her ocean eyes dancing across the rim of the cup to cautiously watch the pronounced rising and falling of Thom's chest. Something about his fierce grip on a corner of the parchment letter piqued her interest and ever so slowly, Isla paced forward, attempting to casually leaf through the pieces of mail atop the table when she flipped the opened envelope over and saw her own name written delicately in a handwriting that was all too familiar, the emerald wax seal now revealing the broken image of the Malfoy crest.

A nervous chill ran across Isla's shoulders, a foreboding knot dropping in her stomach as her blue eyes widened, panic effortlessly showing, and she hesitantly gazed up. The fury radiating off him felt palpable, pushing Isla into falsely portraying her own anger at his invasion of her privacy.

"You opened a letter addressed to me?" She rhetorically asked, suppressing a visible tremble when Thom jumped up from his chair to inch close enough until he was hovering over her.

A hand shot out, picking up the letter to wave it in front of her face as a confused glare crossed her features, the parchment completely blank as he forcefully showed it to her. Shoving the paper into her grasp, he moved to stand behind her as her fingers grazed the parchment.

"Read it," he ground out, his emerald eyes wildly determined as his chest pressed into her back and he pushed her forward until her hips were crushed against the rim of the wooden table.

"It's blank," she stuttered, not even attempting to move out from beneath his forceful position.

"Read it," Thom repeated, his left hand crunching the letter into her fisted palm as he remained closely behind her.

The instant she touched the parchment scrawling words magically appeared. Isla skimmed the demanding note from Draco and nearly threw it out of her grasp after two seconds, hoping Thom had not been able to follow the words before she dropped the paper back to the table.

"You're going to go - aren't you." His words were more of an aggravated statement than a question and his biting tone gave the immediate impression that he was completely aware of his wife's love for another. "You're going to go meet that - _man."_

Thom's hot breath on her neck sent panicked shivers down her spine, his rigid proximity enforcing the fact that he was very much opposed to her infatuation.

There was the sudden absence of his warmth from against her back and she twisted at the waist to make sure Thom was still in the room, his broad shoulders turned away from her as he had been awaiting her response. "And what if I do?" Isla challenged, chin jutting forward in determined courage without him seeing her motion of minute bravery. The haughty words though spun him around, dark eyebrows pushed together in a sharp line over his emerald eyes that were shooting daggers at her less than confident stare.

"If you do -" Thom started, his steps lengthy as he slowly paced towards her again like a lion on the prowl. "Well - I wouldn't be surprised." His top lip curled up in a disgusted sneer, his hands fisting at his sides to physically hold in his anger. "You have been denying your desire to chase that man since the day he broke your heart and publicly humiliated you, just waiting for him to show you some interest again."

"Is that so?" Isla returned, her voice gaining momentum as she enveloped the searing rage tumultuously swirling inside her. "Why did I marry you then?" She screamed, arms waving wide in frustration. "Because I couldn't wait to torture you for the rest of our lives with my depression? Because _certainly,_ there no way I could have actually loved you."

Growling in irritation, Thom sharply replied, "You _married me_ so his bastard child would have a father - so I could raise that little brat as if she were my own so you would be less shamed than he had already made you."

"I loved you!" Isla yelled sapphire eyes fiercely narrowed as she vehemently reiterated her past feelings.

"You didn't love me! You loved the idea of someone taking care of you! Of someone being there to hold you through the nights when you cried yourself to sleep! You loved the idea that I could see you for the first time in _months, _realizing that you were pregnant when I saw you in St. Mungo's, and still want to be by your side while all hell rained down on you!" This was by far the angriest she had ever seen her husband but his outrage only incentivized her to match his fury, completely ignoring the hot tears that had pooled in the corners of her eyes as a sign of her rising emotions. "He destroyed you, Isla! Draco Malfoy shattered every bit of sexy confidence and strong values you had. I raised Isabella as my own daughter because I cared enough about you to look past the truth - because I thought I could help you with your problems - stupidly hoping that you would love me the way you loved him."

"But you never loved her like a father should - did you?" She questioned forcefully, salty tracks running down her flushed cheeks where the brimming tears had become too much. "You hated Isabella from the moment she was born - just because her real father had gotten to me first. Admit it - you loathe our daughter. You can't stand to see another man's child living in your house, _loving you_ as the only father she has ever known!"

"So what if I do?" Thom boasted, his thickly muscled forearms crossing tightly over his torso as they stood closely and violently glared at each other. "Do you really blame me? Isabella is your one chance - your sole opportunity to get him back. Don't think I haven't realized that." He paused, glancing away as an errant thought passed through his head before Thom hastily returned to his glare. "But you still spent all these years hiding her. Why is that? Because you knew that Malfoy would disregard your child too if he found out - that he would be furious enough with you for withholding his daughter that he would take her away from you? That he would stop loving you because of what you had done?"

Isla had to rotate her gaze away, a tidal wave of suffocating realization at his honest words engulfing her chest and making it harder to breathe as she struggled to evenly inhale and exhale under his scrutinizing stare.

"You knew he would hate you as much as I have grown to for keeping her a secret. No wonder you were so eager to take our holidays overseas - and to travels to the Continent to oversee the purchasing of decorations for the house and to buy all those expensive clothing - you were scared he would see Isabella and uncover the truth of your fraud."

She felt she had no other choice but to turn to face the windows, remaining silent as she watched Thom's reflection step just close enough for his image to surround her in the glass frame.

"You can keep your dirty little secrets," he harshly whispered, the reverberation of his rough, foreboding voice sending goose bumps over skin. "I don't want any part in your lies anymore. You can only hide them for so long before the truth outs itself."

Her thick eyelashes squeezed shut as silent tears poured over the curve of her cheeks, her shoulders beginning to gently shake as sobs quickly became gasping heaves. Isla could tell without turning around that Thom had left the room, the letter and its envelope lying on the table unperturbed as she glanced sideways to confirm that she was alone in the kitchen. The calm atmosphere was too much to bear and she parted her lips to moan for her sadness.

Chest still reaching for air, Isla frantically looked around, her lungs seemingly unable to work fast enough for her to breathe properly. Her legs scrambled to run to the door, flinging it open as she bolted outside. The autumn winds were not enough for her though and Isla continued to gallop across the expansive backyard. Repeated, sucking breaths were useless as her chest felt like it was going to explode from the overwhelming tightness. Everything had fallen down when Thom spoke the words she had kept herself from thinking all these years - how ultimately she was a coward and a liar. The same could very well be inferred about Draco concerning his actions that had separated them in the first place but time had put too much distance between then and now, the similarities elapsed by the vast differences in the time the secret was held under wraps.

An idea punctured her running thoughts, stopping her swift feet rapidly as Isla turned her neck back to gaze up at the evening sky. _That _was where she would find enough air to breathe. As long as she could fly first.

Not caring if anyone was watching her from the many windows of the house, Isla stood completely still and let her eyes slid shut naturally as she instantly conjured up the image of her Animagus. She forced the transformation immediately but regretted the hasty choice as the dizzying pains crept up her spine where she should be morphing. Screaming loudly, Isla barreled through the numbing sensations until she felt her feet rise up off the ground as they shortened and grew feathers. Large golden wings expanded where her arms just were and the scream became a caw of triumph as Isla allowed her clothes to fall to the grass and she slowly shot upwards.

The moment her wings lengthened to pull the thick wind underneath her feathers, the mind numbing pain returned and Isla fell from the sky to drop soundly to the ground, her naked body taking its natural form as she howled in agony. She folded into herself, assuming the fetal position as chilling shivers racked her limbs. In the span of less than forty-eight hours her fragile life had been torn apart, both the men she had always relied on having discovered one or the other of her twisted secrets.

What was she to do now? Thom was surely to ask for a divorce and Draco was likely to pursue her for information and details pertaining to their daughter and her whereabouts all this time. And for some unknown reason her one peaceful respite of flying had been taken away, her Animagus trapped inside as both woman and bird felt the desire to touch the skies. Only pitying herself, Isla cursed Draco for his irresponsible actions and for, along with her heart, taking with him her much needed sanity and ability to fly.

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**A/N:**

**I am so glad to finally be getting into the thick of writing this story and I can't wait for y'all to read what's coming up. Drop me a review and tell me what you think. Soon this will be a requirement before I update again seeing as how I am getting the hits but not the feedback I would most enjoy. **

**My facebook is linked to my homepage at the top of my profile so check it, add me and stay up to date with what's to come and added extras only on my facebook. Look up chapter three sometime in the next week. **

**Until then. . . **


	4. Green and Silver

**Disclaimer: ****I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfic pleasure.**

**This chapter is dialogue heavy. If it seems stilted at times it's because I was unsure of how to have an eleven year old speak naturally while still maintaining my own writing style. **

**.**

**Chapter Three – Green and Silver**

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was quite the imposing place. Many generations of children had been fearful when first arriving to the school after a long trip on the Express, weary as they were led to the small boats that magically floated to the castle. While some first years knew others, some children knew not a soul at the school but were either eager or nervous to make new friends.

Isabella was no exception to this as she quietly fell to the back of the group of eleven year olds, surveying the anxiously chatting students as they waited to be led into the Great Hall to be Sorted. She had changed on the train and was now dressed immaculately in crisp school robes, Hogwarts emblem blazing as she followed the group once they were led up the stairs to enter through the massive double doors into the waiting mass of students and teachers. Each in turn, the First years walked to the front of the room, precariously sitting on the short stool before Headmistress McGonagall placed the old and creased Sorting Hat atop their young head.

"Scorpius Malfoy!" McGonagall called about halfway through the names and Isabella waited until a very similar head of flaxen locks slipped through the remaining First years to walk up to the stool before her silver eyes found his figure and she stared in curiosity at the boy. "Slytherin!" The Hat screamed, a large grin painting his face as Scorpius hurriedly ran down the stairs to join his new Housemates.

Her gaze followed him and she was lost in curious wondering when the repeated shouting of her name caught her attention. McGonagall was peering through the remaining First years, the children were staring at each other in uncertainty until they all parted and Isabella was left standing by herself with the Headmistress' gaze on her.

"Miss Mercade?" The older witch called and Isabella hurried up the short stairs, her blonde head held high as she pushed past her momentary embarrassment to turn and sit on the stool.

The Sorting Hat was placed atop her head and within seconds she heard a grumbling voice in her head.

_"Hmmm interesting. I remember your mother. And your father. You are certainly their child. Proud and cunning like him and precise and intelligent like her. That leaves me with two options. In both Houses you would be suited. But ultimately I think it will be. . ."_

"Slytherin!" The Hat bellowed and an uproarious cheer sounded from the green and silver table. Isabella tightly smiled, hoping off the seat to easily trot to her new housemates, all of her ponderings forgotten as she sat down with just three other students between herself and Scorpius. A crucial thought had registered in her mind when the Hat was speaking to her, she knew her father had not attended Hogwarts and that her parents had met through work. Why then had the Hat proclaimed to know who her father was? And how did it know that she was just like him?

The welcome feast was abundantly exciting as the First years eagerly conversed with the upperclassmen, exuberant with wonder at the magical atmosphere of the castle. Prefects directed the new students through the hallways after the meal, each group splitting off in different directions as the rowdy eleven year olds followed the leader until they reached their dorms. Isabella had begun talking to several other First years during dinner and she babbled on with Helena Harris and Margot Thompson, barely paying attention as they were led through the dungeons. They were all three in the same room with Charlene Nott and Abigail Flint, both of whom knew each other from family get togethers and who shunned the others once they arrived to their dorm and began unpacking. Their four poster beds were larger than she had expected, closer to a double than a single mattress and Isabella continued chatting excitedly as she fished through her trunk to pick up stacks of clothing.

"We better hurry," Margot said, her short, inky black locks swaying around her ears, her sharp brown eyes blinking anxiously as she fumbled with her robes. "McGonagall said there was going to be another mandatory meeting for First Years in the Great Hall. The prefects will be back to get us any minute, I'm sure."

Helena, the most obviously brazen of the trio, scoffed disdainfully, her sleek brunette up do catching the faint, flickering light of the wall sconces as she pushed her hip out to the side and dramatically placed her hand on the protruding bone. "I'm sure their knickers won't be in a twist if a couple Firsties just happen to get lost in the hallways because they missed the rest of their House leaving," she responded, devilishly smirking as she glanced between Margot and Isabella.

"I highly doubt a Prefect is going to overlook three girls missing from a group of twenty," Isabella condescendingly remarked, her back turned to the other girls without seeing Helena frown irritably at her. "I'd rather not get detention our first night here," she twisted around to gaze between the two witches, cocking an eyebrow when neither of them protested. "Would you?"

Helena tipped her nose up, aggravated that her idea for a carefree jaunt through the castle was so easily dismissed. "Looks like we know who the party-pooper is now," she commented bitterly, arms crossing over her flat chest as she glanced at Margot for reinforcement only for the girl to look away hastily.

Just then a knock sounded at the door and the five students in the dorm room turned at the same time to stare at the black surface.

"Are you all ready?" One of the female Slytherin Prefects called through the frame. "We're going up to the Great Hall in five minutes."

"We'll be right there!" Isabella yelled back and rushed to shut the lid of her trunk as she paced to the doorway, glancing back to make sure the rest of the girls were following her lead.

The Slytherin First Years were still as loud and animated as was to be expected while the small group made a low rumble of commotion as they proceeded down the main corridor and followed the band of Ravenclaws into the Great Hall. The four large, wooden tables had been removed and instead several dozen chairs lined the sides of the stone walls, Headmistress McGonagall and each head of House standing on the raised dais at the front of the room waiting patiently for the arriving children.

"Alright students," McGonagall called when the four groups were huddled together in front of the stage. "This is your introduction to Hogwarts. Over the next hour, you will be getting to know each other better and interacting with magic in a controlled environment for us to get a feel for how your skills have progressed thus far. First off, I would like each of you to pair up with someone from your own House, one male and one female if you please."

The First years glanced around in nervous confusion, the girls suddenly twittering anxiously as they stared at the boys who looked as if they would rather partner with a teacher than a female Housemate. Their even numbers matched all the students equally, forcing the Slytherins to pair off once the rest of the Houses had done so. Isabella glanced sideways at Margot and Helena, both girls staring at their choices with different facial expressions of slight fear and eager anticipation. Since the other Slytherin females were still standing apart from the males, Isabella peered through the line of boys, catching the intrigued gaze of a blonde headed wizard. Deciding she best hurry up this process before McGonagall reprimanded the lazy Slytherins, she walked across the short distance and stopped in front of the boys who were now whispering excitedly.

"Want to be my partner?" she asked Scorpius easily, silver meeting silver as she quirked her light eyebrows in question as their gazes locked.

"Sure," he replied, turning for her to follow him to where the already paired up Firsties were waiting before McGonagall. "I'm Scorpius," he introduced, rotating back to extend a slender hand out to her.

"Isabella," she returned, grasping his hand stiffly and trying to force a smile when he held her palm a moment longer than necessary.

Tilting his head to the side and peering at her curiously, Scorpius seemed to realize there was something familiar about this girl. "Have we met before? I feel like I know you from somewhere."

She firmly shook her curly head, pulling her grasp away and blinking in concentration. "No - I don't think so."

"Hmm," Scorpius responded and stared for a second more before turning to face the front of the room, his thin arms crossing over his chest soundly.

"Does everyone have a partner?" McGonagall rhetorically asked, the students quieting as she spoke. "Each pair will be given a piece of paper with several questions on them. You are to ask each other the questions - remember their answers because that information will be useful for the next exercise."

Isabella and Scorpius watched as Professor Slughorn approached the huddled group of Slytherins, a small stack of papers clutched tightly in his shaking hand and a cheerful smile pulling up his sagging cheeks.

"Here you are, my boy," he said, handing a lone piece to Scorpius as he passed the pair and Isabella quickly snatched the paper from his fingertips, the boy irritably protesting as her mercury eyes scanned the list of a dozen or so questions.

"What is your favorite animal?" She asked without looking up, her gaze trained to the paper to keep from staring at him.

"A dragon," Scorpius replied after a long pause, his tone short and crisp as he reached for the paper, seizing it easily as Isabella followed the movement and glared, agitated at his forwardness.

"And you?" He asked, reading each line on the page as she huffed a loud sigh.

"A chimera."

Scorpius' silvery head jerked up, his sudden attention catching her off guard as she watched a strange emotion flicker over his features, something she assumed was confusion as she quickly explained her answer.

"It's a creature with the body of a lion, the tail of a snake, and the second head of a goat. But can sometimes just be a creature with many animal body parts combined."

"I know what it is," Scorpius scoffed. "Chimeras are mythical creatures, no one has seen one in several centuries. How can you say it's your favorite animal if they are practically extinct?"

"Anything is possible," Isabella retorted, her eyes narrowed dangerously in anger. At the raising of one of his ashy eyebrows, she let her top lip curl up in revulsion at his demeaning attitude. "Chimeras are representative of humans because they have the many pieces that fit together to make it whole. Everyone has prideful tendencies like the lion and some are scornful like the snake; most people are intelligent like the goat but everyone had a different mixture that makes them unique."

Having not expected such a thorough answer, Scorpius morphed his facial features to show he understood her point, glancing down to the sheet of paper as he casually remarked, "Well that answers that."

"When is your birthday?" He asked evenly without looking up.

"May 3rd," Isabella blandly stated.

"Really?" Scorpius inquired, the surprised pitch to the one word drawing up her attention as she hesitantly glanced at him, slowly nodding her head as if her confirmation would be a bad thing. "Mine too," he added and flashed a wide smile when her eyebrows shot upwards.

"Really?" Isabella repeated his statement and Scorpius chuckled lightly, his silver gaze running over the listed questions as he nodded several times.

"Yes, really. Looks like we have something in common after all."

"You mean besides the fact that we both have blonde hair and grey eyes?" Isabella challenged, already wanting to prove this spoiled brat wrong even if it meant pointing out their similarities.

Scorpius was caught off guard by her statement, suddenly fixing his gaze on her slender face as one eyebrow drooped lower over an eye in contemplation as he assessed the witch before him. The whiteness of their blonde locks were closely alike and their silver eyes were very nearly identical in shape and size, thick dark lashes surrounding both sets of mercury orbs.

"Grey eyes are extremely rare, even among the magical population," Isabella said plainly.

Neither spoke for a moment, staring at each other quietly as her words reverberated in the not so quiet silence of the Great Hall as each attempted to make heads or tails of what that snippet of information meant for them.

_Were we twins separated at birth?_ Isabella randomly thought, the inkling flying out the window as she dismissed their similar features and same date of birth_. Impossible. Mother wouldn't have given away one of her children. Are we cousins then? They say all witches and wizards are related somehow. _

"Yes well -" Scorpius started slowly, the two words a slight distraction from his inability to quickly say something snarky. "We are all related one way or another," he finished weakly, schooling his features into indifference as Isabella smirked cockily, her expression of triumph relating to his vocalization of her most recent thought as if he had read her mind.

"What's the next question," she said without the inflection of asking, a smile replacing the smirk as she chuckled shortly to herself.

"Favorite memory," Scorpius stated, glancing down and picking a random question before rapidly looking up to gauge her reaction.

"That's easy," Isabella dismissed. "When I was four, my mother was pregnant with my brother. When she brought him home from the hospital - I'd never seen my parents look so happy." Her gaze turned distant and she continued rambling without pausing to think about what she was spilling. "They always fought a lot but when they came back with William, everything seemed easier." Suddenly realizing what she had said, Isabella hastily glanced at Scorpius before staring at the arch of two pillars off to her left. "What about you?" She commented without looking back.

"The first time I rode a broom," Scorpius replied, a sad smile turning up the corners of his lips as he too got lost in his memories. "My father had bought me a new Firebolt for Christmas one year and when I snuck upstairs to find my presents and discovered the broom, my mother was furious that he had bought such an "inappropriate toy" for me. That was one of the times that she left the Manor for several days and one of the many that my father drank himself into depression. I took the broom outside that day after my mother left and my father shut himself in his office and flew for hours, not caring if they found me and took away my gift."

Scorpius then too realized who he was speaking to and shook his head to rid the memories, sheepishly glancing away when he saw Isabella staring at him with a mixture of pity and understanding twisting her features.

"What do you want to be when you grow up and why," he stated when the awkward silence ate at his nerves, briefly chancing a glance at Isabella as her eyebrows furrowed and she contemplated her answer, immensely glad that she had not pushed him further but followed his change in subject.

"I want to be an Unspeakeable like my father," Scorpius filled in for her when Isabella's expression turned serious as she racked her mind for an answer to a question she had not really thought about so far in her short life.

"Your father was an Unspeakeable?" She asked incredulously, silver eyes wide and mouth agape as she stared at him.

Unsure if her question was meant to be implied as a good or bad thing, Scorpius hesitantly responded, "Yes. . ."

"Both my parents were Unspeakeables too," Isabella supplied, earning a curious tilting of his head as Scorpius openly stared in surprise. "That's how they met."

Scorpius kept a wary eye on Isabella, peeking around her to make sure no students were watching them as if waiting for some big joke to be revealed.

"Which department does he work for?" She asked innocently, merely trying to gauge if their parents somehow knew each other.

"I dunno," Scorpius replied hesitantly, eying her up and down.

"Mine were in the Time Department before my mother quit and my father made his way into politics."

A flash of a memory of Draco rambling on about the stupidity of politicians and their selfish desires brought a haughty smirk to Scorpius' features, his lips curling into a sneer as he hmph'ed at her prolonged response.

"So what do you want to be?" He repeated to keep from allowing her to berate him for silently mocking her parents. "A model? Or a doctor? Maybe just a housewife?"

It took everything in her to not swing at him, her fists clenching at her sides as Isabella narrowed her irate gaze and stared fiercely at Scorpius.

"Whatever I do, I'll be more successful than you," Isabella said smugly, her mounting temper infuriated even further when he simply chuckled and gave her a condescending smirk.

"No one has more success than a Malfoy," Scorpius stated. "My father has told me so."

"Well your da is wrong," she proclaimed through gritted teeth, barely holding back her irritation with the blonde wizard. "He can't be too bright if he's still stuck in the Department of Mysteries after being an Unspeakable for over a decade."

Scorpius meant to retort with a clever comeback but all he could do was step forward enough until they were dangerously close. He barely had an inch over her in height but he used that small advantage to tilt his chin up snootily as Isabella kept her gaze focused on his irate expressions.

"Say that again," Scorpius whispered in a low tone, "And we'll see who's really successful with magic."

Neither blonde had noticed that the surrounding students had gotten eerily quiet as they paused their activities to watch the escalating fight. The Slytherins closest to them turned to divert the other House's attention from the arguing pair, scowling and glaring at their fellow Firsties in order to protect two of their own from gaining the attention of the teachers.

"Isabella?" Margot nervously called her new friend, panicked eyes flitting over the handful of students still watching the Slytherins. She was jerked from her stare by the random mention of her name, glancing sideways to chance a peek at Margot as the black haired girl stood anxiously next to a scrawny wizard, both looking away when Isabella's focus turned to them before she returned her glare to Scorpius.

"Alright everyone," McGonagall loudly stated, breaking their concentration as both blondes spared a glance at the front of the Great Hall, barely considering the Headmistress' call for attention a top priority. "You have had enough time to go over your questions and answers. Remaining with your partner, I want one pair from each House to form a group of eight. Once you have found the others from the opposing Houses and created a group, I want you all to take turns asking each other the same questions. This exercise is designed to create friendships between Houses and to show you all that everyone is not so different. Now find a group - you will have twenty minutes before we move on to our next exercise."

"Come on," Scorpius rushed. "Let's get this over with so I don't have to be partnered with you anymore."

Huffing angrily, Isabella brushed past him and walked around until she found a group of six students who had yet to venture into the Slytherin fold to find an extra pair.

"Mind if we join you?" She asked politely, grabbing the attention of the entire lot as they turned to stare at her and Scorpius looming just behind.

"Might as well," a loud mouthed, very small boy amended from the back. "We're still missing two snakes."

Isabella ruffled at the demeaning tone of his statement and felt Scorpius hurry up to press against her back as he too bristled with anger for the short Gryffindors remark. Pursing her lips into a tight line she nodded once and stepped forward to complete the small circle, making room for Scorpius as he haltingly strode to the group. The rest of the assembly went as smoothly as one could hope and the First Years were eagerly pushing their way through the wide doorway to exit the Great Hall almost three hours later, each House splitting off to retreat to their dorms.

"Now wasn't that so much more fun than skipping to wander around the grounds?" Helena goaded as the three girls were drawn together and began walking down to the dungeons. Isabella ignored her comments, pretending as if she were still too worked up over her partnering with Scorpius to listen to her friend's complaints. Margot was anxiously silent between them, turning her head as she peered back and forth for eithers reaction as they breezed through the corridors.

"What's that?" Isabella remarked, her silver eyes fiercely narrowed. "I can't hear what you're saying over the horrid smell of that ghastly perfume you insist on reapplying every hour."

Helena's gaze widened a fraction before she closed her open mouth and glared scornfully at the blonde witch. There was no snippy response and Isabella smiled smally at her victory over the pompous, spoiled brat. It was almost curfew when the trio found their way to the entrance to the Slytherin common room and slipped inside with heavy yawns echoing through the troupe. As they passed through the green and silver decorated room, a roaring fire bringing light and heat to the cold space, Isabella noted that many students were still up, a lot of them lounging around the common room chatting easily.

After following Helena and Margot back through the dorms to their room, she changed into something more comfortable and threw a sweatshirt over her head to ward off the chilliness of the dungeons. Helena had begun rambling on about how fabulous and exciting her family was, Margot listening with rapt attention as the brunette held her gaze and gestured wildly, and she knew they would notice her absence. Isabella rummaged through her trunk until she found a short stack of books she had brought with her to read and tucked the novel under her arm as she quietly slipped out of the bedroom to make her way back to the common room.

Intending to find an open chair or couch to relax and read, Isabella stopped in the darkened entryway leading from the dorms as she surveyed the sunken area overloaded with cushiony sofas and plush rugs. Spotting a single chaise lounge chair on the far side of the room just to the right of the giant, marble fireplace inside a shadowed alcove, she paced through the arranged furniture, barely glancing around as she felt roving eyes on her. She was several meters from her destination when her peripheral vision saw a spot of white, her head immediately turning to peer at the object and she did a double take when she saw that it was Scorpius she had seen. He was sitting alone at a small table, his blonde head bent forward so his nose was only a handful of inches from the book's page and Isabella paused to stare at the boy that had done his best to make her life hell for a couple of hours.

Sighing in agitated reluctance, she twisted her hips to begin walking towards the table instead of the secluded chaise lounge.

"Mind if I join you?" Isabella evenly asked, not surprised when Scorpius looked up and blanched before quickly schooling his face into indifference.

"Go ahead," he replied and turned his attention back to the book he was reading, a quill pinched between his fingers on the far side as he readied to make notes in the text. She deftly scooted the chair back before pulling it back under her as she sat, her reading material now lying on the tabletop as she momentarily studied Scorpius.

"I want to apologize for my behavior earlier," Isabella started, pausing when her words registered and he glanced up, intrigued by where she was going. "I get nervous when meeting new people. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Scorpius was astounded by her attitude, he was not used to being treated as an equal by anyone, let alone someone his own age. Most of the children that he had grown up with had been taught to fear and respect the Malfoy name even before they were introduced as playmates. He had never had a true friend before but Scorpius was sure this was how that type of relationship worked. Isabella held her stare for a minute longer, taking in his facial features and expressions and wondering why he looked so familiar, before she let her honey eyebrows raise gently and her silver eyes widened in anticipation of his response.

"Well?. . ." She said shortly, goading his reaction when Scorpius seemed to jerk out of a spacey thought.

"Yes - thank you. I must apologize as well. I have always been praised or scorned for my last name and I assumed you were doing the same thing." The words ran out before he could stop them but judging by the relieved smile that flashed on her face, Isabella was not interested in what others thought of him. She nodded her head once and let the subject drop, focusing her attention on opening her novel to the correct page as Scorpius gazed down at the same sentence he had read four times now.

The book wasn't holding her attention so Isabella leaned back in her wooden chair and casually stared over the other occupants of the common room. Everyone was caught up in their own readings or chats with their friends and she exhaled a small sigh, puckering her lips and pushing them to the side of her mouth as she rotated her shoulders to face Scorpius straight away.

"What are you reading?" Isabella asked curiously when the bubble of silence surrounding their table became deafening. His finger paused where it was following the words on the page as he read and Scorpius slid his fingers underneath the hard edges of the cover to lift the book off the table and hold it so she could read the bold title, his mercury eyes never leaving the page as the tome shifted.

"Charms? Why are you reading a textbook before classes have even started?" Isabella questioned incredulously.

Scorpius shrugged his shoulders, finally breaking his stare as he relaxed his shoulders and straightened his posture. "I think the subject is. . . interesting and want to be prepared for class. What have you got there? Some romance novel I bet."

Isabella hastily grabbed her book and pulled it across the table to where he couldn't reach it if he tried. Hiding the flush of unreasonable embarrassment that threatened to creep up her neck, she ducked her head to look like she was marking her page in the book but inhaled rapidly to calm her jittery nerves.

"So what if it is?" She testily responded, working to push the envelope to see how he would react to a sudden shift in her mood.

Scorpius raised his ashen eyebrows, shaking his platinum head once to convey his indifference on the matter. "Everyone has to read something," was all he said before nodding his chin forward to gaze again at the textbook.

Isabella took his ease in stride and flipped back open her book to scan the page to see where she had left off, smiling to herself when she realized that she kind of liked the boy. They had both easily opened up to the other and she thought that a key component to any solid friendship. She had been weary of this school year because of all of the changes it represented. But making friends and finding a kindred spirit led Isabella to believe that maybe Hogwarts might not be such a bad place after all.

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**A/N:**

**Thank you for reading! This took a bit longer than expected but I had a hard time figuring out how much I wanted to have happen here. **

**If you liked it, hit that blue button to review. I would greatly appreciate the feedback and would love to know who all is reading this story. **


	5. Death and Dying

**Disclaimer: ****I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfic pleasure.**

**.**

**Chapter Four - Death and Dying**

The raging hangover that awoke him the next morning was not what surprised Draco; he was astonished that he had made it up to his chambers last night after starting his drinking spree at noon the day before and not stopping until he left the Leaky Cauldron. Rolling over onto his back as the silky emerald sheets fell down to rest around his hips, he exhaled a tired sigh as a slight hand reached up to wipe his brow and rub his mercury eyes. His palm rested on his bare chest and Draco stared into the dark canopy of his bed as he fought the dizziness that was currently swirling his thoughts, his flaxen locks splayed around his head as his fingers traced a thin scar down the middle of his sternum absently. The mark was a reminder of Harry Potter and the Sectumsempra curse he had endured in his sixth year, the blemish reminding him of the more recent scar he possessed that ran parallel down the left side of his ribcage - one that surfaced the plethora of memories surrounding Isla.

At the mere mental mention of his long, lost love, Draco squeezed his eyes shut as an image of Isabella turning around to get a good look at him at the train station appeared in his mind, mother and daughter now fittingly connected in his thoughts. Everything else from the day before was a blur after his memory of Isla running away from him, the alcohol surely playing a part in his forgetfulness. Draco slowly sat up in bed, his shoulders hunching forward as he leveled his head to keep the spins away. His legs twisted under the sheets until his feet slid over the edge of the mattresses and the coolness of the room outside of his warm bed sent a tremor over his pale skin as the balls of his feet melted into the thick carpet of the floor.

It did not take him long to hurry out of bed and rush to the tiled bathroom, his suite colder than usual as he continued to shake slightly as he opened a wide cabinet to retrieve the proper hangover potion. Locating the vial containing the light purple liquid, Draco pulled the stopper from its tight position and emptied the potion down his open throat. Thankfully the effects were almost instantaneous and he rolled his shoulders and bent his neck sideways to drain the remaining tension from his toned body. Draco turned and walked to the glass walled shower, prying open the clear door to rotate the nozzle as a stream of icy water poured from the shower head. Twisting the handle until it was almost all the way to the left, he let the glass door fall shut as he pressed his thumbs underneath the elastic band of the pajama pants at his hips and tugged the material down, kicking the fabric off his feet as he stood completely naked.

Draco let another moment pass for the steam to build up inside the glass walls and he pulled a fluffy towel out from a cabinet beneath the long marble sink, tossing it over the edge of the counter before turning back to walk into the shower. Half an hour later when the water was beginning to lose some of its heat, he shut off the stream and stepped out of the glass cubicle, wrapping the towel around his lean waist as he ran a hand through his wet hair. Feeling immensely better after taking the potion and cleaning himself in the shower, Draco left the steamy confines of the bathroom to enter his enormous closet to find something to wear for the day.

Dressed in a pair of black trousers with a cream cashmere sweater and leather loafers, he cast a drying spell on his platinum locks before tucking his wand in the hidden pocket down his thigh and striding to the door to walk downstairs for breakfast. Since Scorpius was gone to school now he did not expect Astoria to join him for their ritual morning meal and was indifferently surprised when he turned the corner into the dining room and saw her perched on a chair near the head of the table, attempting to eat but really only pushing her food around as she waited for her husband to make an appearance.

"Good morning love," he greeted, dutifully pausing next to her chair to lean forward and place a chaste kiss on her proffered cheek. "I didn't expect to see you up so early this morning."

Astoria turned her body to follow his movements until Draco was sitting at the customary head of the table, a plate appearing as he assessed the breakfast spread and reached for the tongs to pick up several waffles.

"I wanted to speak with you about finding a doctor. I wanted to catch you before you left for work."

Momentarily confused as to what she was referring to, a vivid memory of their conversation the night before burst to life and Draco swallowed the lump in his throat as he kept his face neutrally composed. "Oh yes," he said in an effort to stall as he thought over what he had promised her last night. "I'll make some calls today and we'll find the best diagnostician on the planet. I will make sure they are here by the end of the week."

Astoria dropped her gaze to her half empty plate, a jerking nod her only response as she blinked rapidly to hide the rapid tears that had formed. She had always been overtly emotional but lately it had become an extreme to where she would cry over anything and everything. In the past she had avoided displaying her irrational state to her husband, knowing he would see her high level of emotions as a weakness, and now she had no choice since he knew her secret.

Draco quickly shoveled his plate of food into his mouth, his mind jumping to the letter he had written Isla the night before as an eager anxiousness tightened his stomach. She was his wife but he was itching to be rid of Astoria's company, his mercury eyes wandering to her quiet demeanor as he exhaled a sigh of guilt at pushing away the sick witch. He did not love her for more than being the mother of his child and Draco realized his empathy stemmed from the heartache Scorpius was sure to feel following her death.

"Don't worry, love," he assured her, garnering Astoria's attention as she looked up with a small smile just for his notice of her presence. "We'll get through this."

Only a handful of minutes passed before Draco was finished eating and he promptly pushed back his chair and stood, rubbing his full stomach as he paused to stare at Astoria. She watched his gaze with amusement, hoping beyond her wildest dreams that he was thinking about her in more than a platonic sense.

"I'll see you when I get back from the office," he offered, repeating his dutiful kiss to her forehead before he stepped away from the table and strode out of the dining room.

Draco wasted no time in hurrying down the hallway to the left and slipping into his office, hastily sliding the lock in place as he turned to face the large room. He could just barely see the hint of cream parchment from his stance and he strode around the furniture to reach as desk, gripping a corner of the envelope as his silver eyes danced over his scrawling of Isla's name. His heart did a funny but somewhat normal flop inside his chest, seeming to contract tightly before expanding as an eagerness enveloped him and a wide smile pulled up the corners of his full lips. Clutching the paper between two fingers, Draco walked until he was standing beside a large window, his free hand grasping the pull to open the glass panes as a crisp breeze blew through. He puckered his lips and whistled, the shrill noise a calling for his favorite hawk owl. The beautiful black and white bird was landing softly on the window sill within minutes and Draco pulled out a handful of treats for the creature as he rolled up the letter and securely fastened it to the owl's outstretched leg.

His back was turned and the bird had just taken off under his command of directions when he thought he heard the heavy wooden door squeak open, quick to dismiss the random noise as his silver eyes followed the owl's flight.

"Who was that to?" Astoria asked, jarring his senses as he twisted at the hips to toss a glance over his shoulder at her, one hand lightly grazing the arm of a large chair as she casually stared at him, hoping not to convey the rising anticipation of his answer and the subsequent crestfallen look that would surely mare her face.

"Just a quick note to Blaise to ask for a few days off," Draco easily lied, rapidly shutting the window and securing the lock before fully turning to give her a pausing gaze, then stepping around her small frame so his back was to her as he approached the large fireplace.

"Won't you see him when you get to the Ministry?" She inquired, her tone testily implying that she did not think he had rushed through breakfast to pen a note to his boss.

"He's with Luna on holiday in Scotland," he lied again. "I could take a leave without notifying him but that would not leave me in good standings," Draco quipped, meeting her defiant stare with a pointed gaze and a cocked eyebrow. Astoria pursed her lips, knowing he had flat out lied to her and to whom he had really just sent a letter to, she was inwardly furious that he was already choosing to forgo his promise to stay away from Isla. Draco stepped backwards into the grate after grabbing a pinch of Floo powder, holding her stare as he backed away. "I'll see you when I get home, love," he said and his hand threw the shimmery powder to his feet and he was gone in a flash of green smoke.

It was three days later, on a late Thursday afternoon that they welcomed Dr. Johan Spitzer to Malfoy Manor for a private consultation. The elderly wizard had fit the appointment in last minute after Draco offered to donate a large sum to his research project, traveling from his offices in the Swiss Alps to arrive in Wiltshire. Astoria had retired to her chambers when she felt a bit of fatigue earlier in the day and Draco graciously led the doctor up through the corridors of the Manor, offering to take the man's coat and to carry his large, leather bag but he declined both and held the satchel closely to his body, the slight clinking of glass and metals telling the blonde that he ought to be careful with the contents of that bag.

"Right this way," Draco requested, gripping the metal doorknob and turning the object as he pushed open the wooden door and led the doctor into Astoria's quarters. "Love - " he called to the empty sitting room as he continued forward into the rooms. "Dr. Spitzer is here."

"In here," she hoarsely replied from the bedroom.

Draco glanced back, nodding once when he saw the doctor just behind him, and kept walking, pressing against the slightly ajar door as his knuckles gently rapped on the wooden surface to notify her of their arrival. Astoria was sitting up against several fluffy pillows, her palor paler than usual and her crystal blue eyes bleak and wearied. Dr. Spitzer brushed past Draco to pause at her bedside, his bushy eyebrows knitting in concern as his beady eyes glanced over her frail body behind thick glasses.

"Tsk tsk," he muttered, his left arm raising as he set his bag at the foot of the bed, opening the tight lapels to dig through the contents until he produced his wand.

Draco stood at the base of the bed, his lean arms folding over his stomach as he watched the doctor lean forward and slowly hover his wand over her body, whispering spells, as he carried it up and down Astoria's form. She had her eyes shut and was controlling her even breaths as she calmly waited for him to finish what was sure to be the first of many preliminary exams.

"Well," Dr. Spitzer started in perfect English. "It appears as if your suspicions are correct. I'm afraid I have to confirm that you do have - what the Muggles refer to as - cancer. It is a tricky virus that can quickly spread through the body, shutting down your organs and weakening your immune system. After reading through your medical history I must assume that you understood your chances of contracting this disease were very high." Dr. Spitzer paused, saddened worry lining his creased face as he frowned down at Astoria. "Unfortunately - there is no cure yet. The Muggles have been using their techknowledge for decades to trace cancer's origins and progressive stages with no results and even the wizarding community is at a loss for how to completely eradicate this disease. I'm sorry, Mrs. Malfoy, but the best diagnosis I can give you is nine to twelve months before your body shuts down. Judging by the progress of your symptoms, I would say your case is already advanced beyond the standard means of slowing down the disease."

Astoria let her eyes slid shut again, a steady exhale the only sign of her understanding of his words as she squeezed her lids shut to hold back the rising tide of emotions. Dr. Spitzer glanced to Draco to peer at the man as he gazed thoughtfully at a wrinkle in the bed's comforter.

"There is nothing that can be done to slow the process or - I don't know - pause the progression?" The blonde wizard asked without looking up, Astoria's eyes opening slightly as she watched the shadowed frame of her husband. He would take of this - the doctor had to be wrong.

"The Muggles have a type of therapy that can sometimes be effective but , but -" Dr. Spitzer stuttered, Draco's strong gaze now intently staring him down as the old man busied his hands with wiping off his glasses and looking anywhere but at the other wizard.

"No. We will not resort to barbaric, Muggle ways," Draco snapped, his shoulders leaning forward as he seemed to loom closer. "What can be done _magically?"_

"Uh - um. Well as of now, there are no potions or spells to -"

"That is enough," Draco bellowed, the angles of his face contrasting sharply with the soft lighting and setting of the witch's bedroom, the doctor halting his sentence as his beady eyes widened in growing fear. "If you cannot help us, then I think it best that you leave now - _doctor."_

Astoria was silent through the mostly one sided conversation, her body too weak to protest when Draco ordered the elderly man from the Manor, only slightly hopeful at the intriguing possibility of Muggle medicine. Dr. Spitzer did not hesitate to toss his wand back into his large, leather bag, quickly gripping the chunky handles and pulling the satchel off the edge of the bed as he glanced again from Draco to Astoria, his gaze shifting from panic to worry with his movement. With a curt nod, followed by the blonde's ignorance of the gesture, Dr. Spitzer rounded the bed frame and squished almost silently through the room, presuming that he would have to lead himself out.

"You didn't have to be so brash," Astoria chastised Draco, earning an irritated scowl that was scantily missed as she opened her eyes again and attempted to glare at him.

"And he did not have to be so incompetent," he retorted. "If he is supposedly the best in his field, he should be able to give us another option besides - well, waiting for you to die."

Astoria twisted her neck so her line of vision was not directly on Draco, her pale hair falling across the right side of her face to hide her disappointment at her husband's bold words and his easy understanding of what would come to happen.

"You can't send away every doctor because they don't tell you what you want to hear," she roughly whispered, now staring through a paned glass window at the perfect blue sky.

"Why not?" Draco replied, his tone relaxing as he seemed to become bored with the pointless conversation. "They are of no use to us if they cannot fix you."

"You can't just _fix_ this in a matter of seconds," Astoria warned, frustrated anger at her diagnosis bubbling up to lash out at him. "I'm dying. If there is a way to slow the process, I would much rather at least try something than wait around to meet my end."

Draco crossed his arms again, turning his back to Astoria as he moved to walk out of her suite. Part of him did not want his complacency with her imminent demise to show through and the other part of him wished there was a way for this whole situation be to resolved easiest for both of them.

"I'll contact another doctor," he said, pausing at her bedroom door to hastily glance back at her immobile form on the bed. "We'll find a way through this." Astoria nodded silently, waiting for the click of the door jam to shut before she stared back over the majority of her chamber and let the hot tears roll down her flushed cheeks.

Draco paused with his hand still on the doorknob, standing alone in the darkened main hallway. He knew Dr. Spitzer had not been lying; he had read up on the subject thoroughly in the recent days since he learned of Astoria's condition and had memorized the passages about the benefits, risks, and negative outcomes of this so called chemotherapy. The logic seemed reasonable enough but Draco had a hard time putting his faith in a Muggle contraption and medicine that was unsteady by even their standards. As his hand slipped off the rounding of the doorknob he decided that, while he coldly and selfishly wanted her death to be quick, he would still do everything within his reach to rid Astoria of this disease - he owed that much to his son. And it would be best for everyone if she felt as if she had a fighting chance until the very end, she could give up easily but Draco held a nagging suspicion that exhausting their every option would appease Astoria more than he had been able to in the past. Running a hand through his shoulder length platinum locks, he exhaled a heavy sigh and set off down the corridor to retreat to his office for a stiff glass or five of Firewhiskey and to glance over the list of physicians he had made in the event that one was not good enough.

The second mediwizard, a Dr. Michepani from southern Italy, was not able to arrive until the following Monday morning and Draco cleared his work schedule to be able to be at the Manor after spending a majority of his weekend at the Ministry to garner a half day off. The young Italian physician was exceedingly attractive and the blonde wizard had a hard time believing his identity until the dark haired man showed his identification and repeatedly assured Draco that it was commonplace for his looks to overshadow his profession. Astoria was again in her chambers when the doctor arrived but this time she was peacefully relaxing on a chaise lounge chair in her private study with a novel open across her lap. The days in between the doctor's visits had been better than she had anticipated and Astoria would almost be feeling well enough before she pushed her limits and strode past exhaustion.

Dr. Michepani followed a similar procedure method as Dr. Spitzer, positioning Astoria to lie on her back, completely still, as he ran his wand parallel with her prone body. Draco thought it best to distract himself until the tests were complete and he paced to a single bookshelf that was jam packed with books of various size and width, all varying in wide ranges of content. The Italian doctor was muttering commands to Isla, instructing her to tilt her chin back or raise her arms, and Draco kept one ear trained to their snippets of conversation as his mercury eyes read the sideways titles of the books.

_A History of Dark Wizards._ The title caught his eye before he could glance away from the topmost left corner of the shelf. This was surely the same copy that had been down in the library, the same book he had read a long time ago in the distant past. The memory of course brought an image of Isla to his mind's eye and Draco was glad his back was turned to his wife and the doctor as a broad grin turned up his lips at the mere thought of his curly haired witch. With all luck he would be seeing her in two days' time. Beyond all else, he hoped Isla would be at the pub on Wednesday when he walked in.

Behind him Dr. Michepani cleared his throat, loud and strong enough to remove Draco from his thoughts to cast a sparing glance over his shoulder. Seeing the doctor watching him, waiting for his full attention, he turned on the spot and clasped his hands behind his back to keep from fidgeting as he slowly stepped across the room to stand at the foot of the lounge chair, Astoria nervously gazing at the physician in anticipation for his prognosis. The tight, grim line his sensual lips had formed was message enough but Dr. Michepani opened his mouth to announce the not-so-new news anyways.

"Mrs. Malfoy - I'm afraid you already know what I'm going to say. You do in fact have cancer. It appears to have grown in your liver and will continue to do so until it spreads through the rest of your organs." Dr. Michepani stopped, twirling his wand between his forefingers, he stared at Draco as he finished, "There are several measures we can take to slow the disease, to allow us to study your case more specifically, but the methods are unconventional by wizarding standards."

"Muggle medicine you mean," Draco filled in for him and the Italian wizard nodded, doubtful that those practices would be put to use after hearing the blonde's disapproving tone.

"Yes - their methods may seem barbaric but many cases have been resolved using their chemotherapy and radiation."

"The last doctor told us the exact same thing," Draco began, his voice dangerously low to indicate to the young mediwizard that he was not willing to put all of their faith in the Muggle methodology. "Do you think we would have summoned you here if we thought you would tell us exactly what he did?" Dr. Michepani had the smarts to appear repentive as he sheepishly glanced to the floor as if he were a child being scolded by his parents. "I am looking to find a way to cure my wife without resorting to Muggle practices that could kill her faster than this blasted disease already is."

"I'm sorry Mr. Malfoy but that is all I can offer for a long-term solution," Dr. Michepani offered, sparing a gaze at Astoria as she sighed wearily. "The best I can do for your wife with magic is to give her potions for pain-relief and for energy replenishment - everything else will just worsen her condition I'm afraid."

"Fine," Draco ground out, his blonde head twisting as he forced a facade of irritation to seem less heartless as he walked out of the study and strode to the suite's entryway, more upset that he had wasted his time this morning than he was at the doctor's unhelpful visit. "Do whatever you can," he tossed back through the rooms, not entirely caring if either of them heard his last words as he heard Astoria begin a line of questioning about her condition followed by Dr. Michepani's soothing responses. Draco had more pressing matters to worry about, namely if he would be a happier man by the end of the week after his secret meeting with Isla.

Wednesday afternoon approached at a slow crawl, the hours beforehand seeming long and boring as Draco impatiently waited for two o'clock to roll around when he could escape the confines of the Ministry to make his way across London to the secluded Muggle pub. He chose to walk through Diagon Alley first, taking the exit from the Leaky Cauldron into the bustling city. The Lion's Den was on the east side of London and Draco made sure to arrive a half hour early so he could occupy a table in one of the darkened corners, cautiously sipping his way through one short glass of whiskey before ordering another as the minutes winded down until three o'clock.

As the larger hand landed on the hour, the young, redheaded waitress deposited two menus on the table and cheerfully asked if he needed anything else while he waited on his guest to arrive. Draco motioned to his already half empty, second glass of whiskey, implying for her to bring a new one as soon as it was done, and server skipped off as if her day was the best yet. He was not worried when a few minutes passed and Isla still had not arrived - she was perpetually fifteen minutes late for everything, instead allowing those minutes to pass by leisurely as he watched the random patrons come through the front door and sipped away his nerves with the burning whiskey.

When those fifteen minutes were up and Isla was yet to be seen, Draco let his worrisome thoughts wander as they grew into a jumble of anxious, hoping wishes and doubtful, angry misjudgings. The broken chime over the front door jingled and he looked up, praying that it was Isla. At first he dismissed the tall, cloaked figure, thinking it was a man who had just entered the pub. But then Draco realized that maybe Isla would show up in disguise to truly keep their meeting a secret and he peered closer into the shadows of the large hood that was covering the person's face. The body shape looked about right beneath the thick folds of the robe and he held his breath when pale, feminine hands reached up to pull back the covering as they stepped up to the bar while surveying the room of patrons. The silhouette of the woman came into view seconds before the removal of her hood showed a head of brunette locks. Huffing in agitation at his stupid hopefulness, Draco brought the rim of his glass to his lips and swallowed the remaining amber liquid, setting the cup on the wooden table just as the enthusiastic waitress replaced it with a new glass full of alcohol and a small plate of a half sandwich and chips that he had hurriedly ordered when his stomach growled loudly.

Devouring the sandwich in-between gulps of his drink, Draco glared at the brown haired woman at the bar, directing his anger at her for allowing him to momentarily think that she was Isla. As if she felt his gaze on her back, the young woman twisted her shoulders to stare back once she found his eyes, looking away anxiously before glancing back to throw him a flirtatious wink, returning to staring into her drink while growing visibly eager. Draco finished his plate and gave a long gulp from his glass, squeezing his mercury eyes shut when a flash of the spins warped his vision.

It was now 3:30 and as appealing as it always sounded to wait around for someone, Draco knew that if Isla had not shown up by now, she was not likely to come strolling through the pub door. The alcohol dulled his emotions slightly but he still felt the agonizing tug of his heart as it lurched in his chest. His nerves seemed to tingle up his arms and across his shoulders in anticipation for an arrival that was not going to happen now.

He felt foolish - arrogant for thinking that one short missive would bring Isla crawling back to him just because he had unearthed her big secret. They have a daughter together - but that did not mean she would drop everything to continue their relationship when she had so obviously gone out of her way all these years to stay away. Bitter disappointment left the sour taste of whiskey in his mouth with the last drop of his fourth drink and Draco slid sideways out of the booth to stand next to the table and throw a crisp one hundred pound note next to his empty plate, impatient irritation forcing him out of the pub rather than wait on change that was sure to make the bubbly waitress even happier.

Draco rushed out the entrance and hurriedly moved through the throngs of pedestrians, his arms tight at his sides as his broad shoulders turned to slide past slow moving groups of people. His wand was hard against his hip bone and Draco wished he were able to grasp the wooden stick for reassurance as he walked through London. All he really wanted now was to retreat to his office at the Manor to barricade himself in so he could release his self-loathing. Knowing these Muggles were blind to the other world around them, Draco kept moving until he spotted a dark alleyway up ahead where he quickly ducked into as his fingers finally wrapped around the smooth hilt of his wand. Closing his silver eyes, he envisioned the Manor and felt the strong pull at his navel as he Apparated from the middle of London to just outside the tall gates of his estate in Wiltshire.

The wrought iron became whisps of black smoke as he walked straight through the gates, rapidly striding up the white stone path to the double doors of Malfoy Manor. The wooden surface bounced in the frame as he threw it shut, pausing only to peel off his black coat and toss it onto a stone table before turning right down the main corridor to hurry to his office. Cursing himself under his breath, Draco repeatedly shook his blonde head at his wasted attempt, his feet automatically taking him to the dark oak door of his office as his gaze remained fixed on the lines of the hard wood floors as he walked.

Opening the door brought the rush of acrid of tobacco smoke from the office and Draco quirked an eyebrow as his jaw clenched shut. What on earth was causing that smell? One large hand still on the doorknob he glanced over his office from right to left before spotting a window that as ajar. His eyes trailed over the glass pane and he saw the source of the smoke in thin whisps as Astoria brought a cigarette to her lips and steadily funneled the mist back into the air around her. She did not appear startled when she looked up to meet his gaze; on the contrary Draco saw a gleam of malice in her crystal blue eyes as she neutrally stared at him.

"What are you doing in here?" He asked with apparent fury, the door shutting behind him as he moved towards her position on the wide ledge of the window on the other side of the room. Astoria's only response was to bring the short cigarette to her mouth to take another drag, purposefully exhaling the smoke at his face as Draco stopped just a few feet from her makeshift chair.

"You're home early," she said instead, "Where have you been?" she questioned, putting out the cigarette in a small dish that she was using as an ashtray and turning her full attention to him as if she were too eager to hear his response.

"I was at work," Draco defended, crossing his toned arms as he repeated his question. "What are you doing in here? And why are you smoking - surely those imbecile doctors told you not to do that at least."

Ignoring his jibe at her new habit, Astoria held her hands still in her lap and quickly assessed her husband's appearance, knowing that he was obviously lying. "They give you bar breaks now at the Ministry, do they?" She inquired rhetorically. "I can smell the liquor from here, don't try to hide it. I know you were with her, you can't deny that." Pausing to allow him to butt in and reject her conjectures, Astoria let the sudden grin turn up her lips in a slight sneer as she watched Draco blink to glance away quickly before staring at her eyebrow so as to not quite make eye contact. "Or maybe - she stood you up and that's why you're so riled up. How does it feel, love? To want someone for so long and finally know you can't have them?"

Draco glared at his wife, holding his tongue to deny the words that they both knew were true. Not wanting to deal with her emotional bullshit, he picked up one foot and rotated his hips to turn around and walk to his desk, his tactic of ignoring the problem bound to work when he would fail to respond to her forthcoming questions.

"Leave me. Go blabber your insecurities to a house elf or a mirror or something that cares to listen," Draco coldly commanded without looking up as he sat down in his large leather chair and acted like he was suddenly interested in the papers lying on top.

He heard her hop off the ledge and lightly patter across the room to stand in front of his desk, her fingers trailing on the edge of the wooden surface as she silently waited for him to look up. When he did not, Astoria exhaled a weary sigh and began speaking again, not leaving room for him to interrupt if he so chose to this time.

"I have no fear of death - I have come to terms with my mortality and accept that we all have to die someday. Whether it's one year or one hundred years from now - I am at peace with dying. What I cannot come to terms with are your actions and how I imagine you will treat our son once I am gone - once you have Isla back and there is no one here to remind you that you have more than one child." She noticed his hands had stopped jumping from paper to paper, glad that some of her words had garnered his attention enough for him to stare through his blonde lashes at her waist just above the line of the wooden desk. "He has asked me before, Draco, about why you don't seem to love me and why you are gone all the time. Scorpius is a smart boy and you have pretended to know him all these years. You can make your own decisions but I want you to see the ramifications they are having on other people." He snorted at this, needing no reminder of the pain his actions had caused through the years, and feigned a chuckle to reiterate his silent emotions. "He is your son and I do not want to go to the grave thinking he will be left unwanted by his father."

Draco kept his blonde head down, his fingers having found a quill to twist between the rough pads as he remained quiet and let her words echo in the spacious office.

"He _is_ my son. He will always be cared for - whether you are here or not," he said in a low rumble, the sentences almost unheard as Astoria leaned forward slightly over the desk. "You should never think otherwise," he finished and bent his neck to meet her blue eyed gaze as she pursed her lips, then pulling them backwards to chew on the bottom, and swayed her head in reluctant nod. A moment passed where they continued to stare, Draco holding her glance to show her reassurance that she should never doubt him, before Astoria broke the gaze to watch her hands fidgeting across the crisp edge of the desk.

"I'll be going then," she told him, hesitant to leave but knowing he wanted time alone. "I should rest before dinner - I'll see you then?"

Draco mutely nodded, his head bending once more to falsely stare at the numerous documents covering his desk as she crossed the room and opened one wooden door to exit his office.

"And, love?" He called questionably, pausing her steps as he focused further on avoiding her gaze by not looking up. "Please stop smoking. It really won't help your situation any."

Astoria smiled at his small gesture, happy to know he cared enough to try to tell her what to do and smug that he was already against her new habit, one that she now had no intention of quitting. She slipped through the ajar door and shut it soundly, leaving Draco to his thoughts as she proceeded upstairs to take a nap.

Sitting alone in the darkened office, he fisted his hands until half-moons were carved into the flesh of his palms. Astoria was one thing to worry about, and Isla was an entirely separate bundle of emotions, but the two combined, in any aspect, could be lethal to the plan he was setting into motion. In the future, he had to make sure he was more than discrete when sending or receiving owls to or from Isla and he would surely keep his demeanor and outward emotions in check after an encounter, or lack of an encounter, with the curly haired witch. Draco was going to have to appease Astoria by engaging with her chosen ignorance of his extracurricular activities, sticking to a schedule that would not permit her to think he could have been anywhere else than where he had told her he would be. There were always more than one way to win a war and Draco was more than prepared to ready his first strategy in order to gain possession of the things he sought most in the wizarding world. More specifically - the two people whom he knew would fill the mostly empty hole in his chest.

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**A/N:**

**Thank you for reading! Let me know what you thought of this chapter by clicking that little blue button just below this in the middle of your screen - c'mon, you know you want to. And I'll love you forever :) **


	6. Where Do We Go From Here?

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfiction pleasure.**

I've always had a vision of writing about Draco smoking so don't yell at me if you're offended by this habit. I smoke myself and I find it sexy to see a guy lighting one up too.

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**Chapter Five – Where Do We Go From Here?**

His office still reeked off pungent tobacco smoke several days later, although Draco would never admit to having swiped the rest of Astoria's cigarettes to smoke them himself as he worked through his irate and disappointed emotions concerning Isla's negligence of their date the week before. The small dish of an ashtray was brimming with ashy butts and he glared at the opposing object as he rounded the edge of his desk to toss the plate out the window. Draco stopped in front of the glass pane, unlocking the golden clasp to push the clear panel from its frame to allow an unusually cool breeze blow through. It was only the middle of September but he felt as if it had been months since he had seen his love at the train station.

Closing his silver eyes to sigh heavily with the refreshing wind, Draco opened them to tiredly gaze at the expanse of the Manor's grounds, his knees bending as he soundly sat down on the short bench under the window. The smell of the dead cigarettes was irrelevant and as he briefly glanced down to the ashtray, he noticed there were two smokes left in the square box and promptly retrieved one, placing the soft filter between his lips as he snapped his fingers and the end lit.

Draco inhaled deeply, relishing in the slight tingling in his lungs and the slow sway of his vision as a quick spell of lightheadedness engulfed his senses with the first few drags. Exhaling the smoke in a thin stream, he knocked the burning end against the edge of the dish to ash it, returning the papery filter to his lips. The cigarette allowed him a few minutes of peaceful thinking, his silver eyes becoming distant as he unblinkingly stared at a grove of trees in the distance.

In the past, it had not been like Isla to completely miss an appointment, granted she was usually late but she always showed up to the designated spot within a reasonable amount of time. Draco could only guess that he had been unfortunate enough to send the owl within a time frame that Thom could have intercepted the note. But that still would not have mattered as the letter had been charmed blank, the message for her eyes only. Which left Draco to assume that Isla had merely chosen to neglect his words and ignore the urgency with which he had penned the missive. And how could he not take that clue to mean that she no longer cared for him?

He could still remember the desperate, pleading look to her sapphire eyes at the train station, a series of emotions that he had originally interpreted as repressed longing and desire. But now - Draco realized that Isla may have been correct in assuming that their love would cost them more, again, than they were willing to part with. Denying the ache in his muscled chest as the breaking of his steely heart that it was, he resolved that if he could not have Isla he could still maintain a relationship with their daughter. He had every right, and probably the social clout to enforce it, to know Isabella and Draco would be damned to hell before he allowed his flesh and blood to be raised thinking that the pathetic excuse for a wizard that was Thom Mercade was her true father.

The cigarette heated up between his fingers where it had smoked down completely and the blonde took one last, burning inhale before he deftly smushed the butt into the ashtray with the others. Picking up the dish and lazily dumping the smelly contents into the bush on the other side of the open window, Draco left the glass pane ajar to air out his office as he easily stood and returned to stand behind his desk, his slight hands tapping against the edge anxiously as his mercury orbs flitted over the random items and documents covering the oak furniture.

There was a pile of books stacked on one corner and he stared pointedly at the text on top, unknowingly frowning at the shiny, golden title proclaiming the tome to be focused on the Malfoy family line. Whenever a new member of the ancient wizarding clan was born, their name was magically transcribed into the heavy book, much like the text at Hogwarts that captured the birth of every newborn witch and wizard. This had been the first book that he had retrieved from the Manor's library, anxious to know the truth behind Isabella's lineage and not disappointed when he saw her name scrawled beautifully on the same date as Scorpius' delivery into the world. Draco knew it was not coincidence that both his children shared the same birthday and now more than ever he was determined to unite his scattered family, hopefully longing that he would be able to convince Isla to join him once more on the shaky path of their lives together.

Draco hated to beg but he was almost willing to do anything to speak to Isla. Knowing that Astoria was out shopping for the day with Pansy, he tugged on the lapels of his dark green coat and turned to round his desk once more. The location of her house had been easily discovered once he chose to begin looking into her and Draco was grateful that he had become obsessed with Isla over the past week so that he was already prepared to Apparate to her home now that he was determined to confront her.

Since it was nearing the middle of the day, Thom would surely be at work at the Ministry, allowing him the perfect opportune chance to bombard Isla. Draco ran a few fingers through his blonde locks distractedly, his mind irrationally jumping ahead of the logical steps he should be taking to go with his gut instinct to show up unannounced at her home. There would be no way that she could escape his questioning and he strode across his office to hastily jerk open the wooden door, pulling it shut behind him with a loud echo as he retrieved his wand and hurriedly walked through the corridors. He did not pass any elves but the portraits watched him with interest as Draco easily walked out the front door and slammed that one shut too as he left the Manor. Disregarding the anti-Apparation wards on the estate, he flourished his wand, sliding shut his silver eyes, and pictured the pale stone building in his mind, never planning to admit that he might have snuck over to her house late one night when he was feeling nostalgic, a quick pop surfacing as the only indication that he had left as Draco disappeared from sight.

The openness of the large property that Isla's house sat on allowed for a hefty wind to blow as he appeared several hundred meters from the looming structure. Draco wasted no time in stowing his wand and strutting forward to walk up a neatly manicured, winding gravel path to the wide front doors. The sun was hot on his back but he knew better than to remove his coat just yet as he took a giant step over the short stairs up to the entrance, his right hand fisting to knock rapidly on the glossy wooden door. Rising his hand to rap his knuckles again, Draco paused when he heard the shuffling of someone inside and suddenly realized the drive that had pushed him to come here now was actually a ball of anticipatory anxiousness that tensed his nerves and set his senses on edge.

She was obviously not expecting the person at her door to have been Draco as Isla immediately froze, weary smile in place, once the thin barrier was opened and she was staring at the blonde wizard who had disrupted her life, over a decade ago and within the past month. Isla instantly pushed the door forward again, aiming to shut it in his face, when Draco slid a foot between the frames and winced slightly when the forceful object impacted with his boot.

"Isla - wait!" He pleaded, a pale hand slipping around the edge of the door to shove it open again as she attempted to shut it anyways. "I just want to talk! You at least owe me that since you didn't show up last week." Still she tried to close him out and Draco sighed in frustration, wearily adding the word that was always her downfall when said by him. "Please."

Not allowing her a second to reconsider once she slightly paused her pushing of the door, he pressed his weight forward and turned sideways to slid between the barely ajar doors, taking control of the sudden situation by returning it to the large frame as the scant sunlight disappeared from the tall foyer.

"Did you not get my letter?" He asked, knowing there was no way that she had not received it but wanting to test her lying abilities should she say she hadn't.

Isla did not respond, her hands were fumbling against her waist and she looked as if she were going to vomit any minute, the only indications that she had heard him before she rapidly glanced up at his blank stare.

"You shouldn't be here," she said and Draco was surprised, and irritated, that she was so unwilling to even listen to what he had to say. Then again stubbornness was one of her more favorable qualities that had attracted him to her in the first place.

"So you did get my letter. Why did you not show up? Or at least send me a note saying so much," he gruffly demanded, his patience already gone with this blonde witch.

"Thom found it first," Isla weakly defended, her voice a whisper as she hung her head in shame, not realizing that she was conveying to Draco that she had wanted to see him. "He wouldn't leave it alone until he had read the letter."

Her following silence led him to believe that the argument that had taken place once Thom had read it was not a pleasant discussion and the gentle sagging of her shoulders told him that she would rather not discuss the elephant that had always been a part of her marriage. "Did he hurt you?" Draco inquired, his tone deathly low as he restrained the anger that threatened to correspond with his falsely calm voice. "I swear by Merlin - if he so much as laid a hand on you -" he began but stopped when Isla rotated her neck to bitterly laugh, her empty sapphire eyes meeting his gaze with no evidence of the mirth he was used to seeing in them.

"He knows better than that. Give me some credit," she bitterly retorted. "Thom wouldn't hurt a fly even if it landed on him the wrong way."

"So you just decided that ignoring my letter was the easiest option."

Isla sighed heavily, her eyelids sliding shut as her chest heaved dramatically.

"What was I supposed to do, Draco? Leave my husband and son for a few hours because you finally decided, after ten long years, to come calling?" He gritted his teeth at her harsh tone but reveled in the sensation that crawled across his skin when she said his name. It sounded so perfect coming off her lips and for a split second he wanted to demand that she just repeat his name over and over. "I can't give you what you want anymore, Draco. That time has passed. I think you should go now."

A rumbling growl tore its way up his throat and he had to clench and unclench his fists at his sides to keep from turning around and punching a wall.

"You can't just get rid of me that easily," he bit out, one eyebrow cocking and her gaze incredulous as her lips parted slightly to gape at his audacity. "You've had a piece of me for eleven years now. I want to know my daughter and I want her to know that that_ leech_ is not her father."

"And how exactly are you going to do that?" Isla questioned, fury spiking her temper as her chest and cheeks flushed with oncoming anger. "Just waltz into Hogwarts and demand to speak to a child that is nor yours? You'll just blurt out that her whole life has been a lie but that you really want to make it up to her?"

He could not contain the roar of emotions this time but Draco resorted to groaning loudly to release the swirling storm of irate agitation that he had unseemingly missed over the years, a tumultuous feeling that only Isla and his father could bring out in him.

"You're the one who has been lying to her! Don't blame this on me!" He roared, mercury eyes growing darker as his breathing increased and his face appeared to gain a set of shadows that made his features look threatening. "You lied to me and to her - none of this would be happening if you had told me of your pregnancy to start with!"

"And what? You would have just forgotten about your secret bride and lovechild to sweep me off my feet when I had just spent three months in hell without you remembering who I was?" Isla countered, her shoulders pulling backwards as her chin lifted in defiance of his accusations. "I don't think so," she added and laughed bitterly. "The great Draco Malfoy could not tarnish his reputation by divorcing the woman who was carrying his child - the same witch who not only made my life miserable at school but who somehow managed to sneak her way into my adultlife to ruin any happiness I thought I had."

"I would have done right by you just like I did with Astoria!" Draco screamed, his composure completely lost as his grey eyes went wild with frustration at their round about conversation. "I loved **you, **Isla! I did what I thought was best for everyone - especially you. I couldn't have you find out through some gossiping whore that I had made a grave mistake."

"But that's exactly what happened!" Isla yelled. "Sure - you did lose your memory for a while there but you knew before we got back what was waiting for us. And you did nothing to prevent me from thinking that we would have our happily ever after. You didn't even have the balls to tell me that you had slept with someone else in the first place."

"Why would I? You would have flown off the handle and left without even listening to me!"

Isla bit down hard on her bottom lip, the coppery taste of blood on her tongue focusing her attention as she mentally counted to three to dissipate some of her anger. "You are the only man I have ever loved, Draco," she started calmly, her facial muscles secured in place to show an impassive mask as she slowly worked through the honesty that she had never had the chance to tell him. "When I woke up and read the Prophet that morning - it took everything in me to not run down there and curse them all for slander. You tore my heart out and cut it in two and I could not forgive you for it. You lied worse than I did when I neglected to tell you about Isabella, Draco. I _trusted_ you."

The blonde wizard threw his head back and tossed his hands into the air, his silver eyes rolling dramatically before he tilted his chin down to levelly meet her gaze with an exasperated sigh.

"Fine - keep your grudge for as long as you like but the past is the past, we can't change anything that has happened anymore than we could travel through time without magic." Isla merely raised one honey eyebrow, jaw clenching tightly as she waited for him to finish waxing poetically so she could tell him to leave once more. "I just want to see my daughter," Draco pleadingly admitted, his tone defeated as she continued to stare at him as if her mind were already made up.

"Oh yea? How are you going to do that? She's at school - there is no way for you to see her until the holidays." Isla smirked in gloating satisfaction, now eager to verbally abuse him as the ever present tingling of anxious nerves dissipated for righteous pride in her quick thinking. "And even then - it just wouldn't work out."

"Why are you so against me seeing my daughter?" Draco asked point blank, his face devoid of emotion as he coldly assessed her silently bragging.

Isla allowed both eyebrows to raise incredulously, her ocean eyes narrowing and red lips pursing as she wondered if he was really this dense. "You left me, Draco. Marriage or not, you chose her over me. When I found out I was pregnant that day," she paused, a sigh escaping as she defeatedly lowered her gaze. Even though she was still mad at him, thinking about, let alone actually verbalizing, the roughest patch in her life brought tears to her downcast orbs. She continued in a softer tone, the reminiscence lacing her words as she whispered, "I didn't know what to do." Isla cleared her throat, ridding the lump that had formed that would only make her sound more emotional than she truly was. "Thom came bursting in right after the doctors and the rest just kinda. . . happened."

Draco wanted desperately to hold her, to tell her it was okay and that he was sorry for not being there. If he had just gone after her, if he had only thought that maybe she wanted to be followed. Isla was obviously mentally exhausted from just those sentences about her pregnancy, the emotional weight heavy as she was not one to normally voice her feelings and private thoughts.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Draco asked instead, his feet turning as he began walking to the kitchen as if he had been to this house many times before. Isla looked up, perplexed by his knowing actions but moving to follow anyways. Their argument seemed to have vanished into thin air and for the most comfortable moment, it felt right for the two of them to be casually standing in the kitchen making tea.

As if in a trance Isla could do nothing more than slid sideways onto a bar stool against the marble island, her blue eyes peeled to Draco as he deftly maneuvered her cabinets to find the necessary ingredients before placing a kettle on the stove top. Without thinking he discarded the heavy emerald jacket that was now suffocating him, tossing it over the back of a chair before rolling up the sleeves of his charcoal button down up to his elbows, the sinewy muscles rippling as Isla sat, completely and momentarily mesmerized.

The clinking of a ceramic mug against the marble counter top swayed her attention and Isla sheepishly glanced away, her heart already changing her actions and betraying her mind even after only a handful of minutes in Draco's presence. The sound was enough to take her away from her foggy thoughts and she let her lips turn up involuntarily in a small gesture of gratitude before her hands wrapped around the warm cup and she brought the steaming mug up to press against her mouth, a steady gulp slowing the seconds until she had to either speak to him or meet his gaze.

"You really shouldn't be here, Draco," she stated again, setting the mug back down and twirling the handle between two fingers as it gently slid across the marble.

"Does it look like I'm going anywhere, love?" He responded, taking a sip from his mug as one hand gripped the smooth edge of the counter top and he pressed his hip into the wooden paneling underneath.

"Thom could be home at any second," she reasoned, blue stare still intent on the unassuming pattern within the stone counter as she noticed his slight movement towards her.

"I'm not leaving until you agree to let me see Isabella," Draco said levelly, his words evenly clipped to enforce his strong stance on the issue. "She's my daughter too."

"Draco - please," Isla nearly whispered, both hands shaking lightly until she let go of the mug and folded her fingers together neatly in her lap, her voice weary as she reluctantly relented. "You can meet her - just - just not now."

"I'm not asking to go right this minute for you to introduce me," he admonished, his soft tone shocking her but she reasoned he must have picked it up along the years of being a father. "I just want to know that I'll have a place in her life." Draco let a hand slowly slid across the counter top, pausing within her line of vision so she could stop him but when she didn't move, he gently placed his palm over her wrist and squeezed reassuringly. "And maybe, one day, in yours as well."

Unfortunately, and both of them would wonder afterwards if they had really heard something or if Fate was merely being cruel, it was in that moment that the faint pop of Apparation sounded and there was scantly a second for them to look up before Thom pushed open the kitchen door, immediately halting in the doorway as he surveyed the scene in his kitchen. Isla should have felt a stirring of anxiousness but she merely stared at her husband, her hand grasped under another man's grip, as his emerald eyes widened and his lips drew into an invisible line. The slowed moment passed and she jerked her arm away from Draco, her waist turning as she fluidly moved off the chair to rush to Thom as he began yelling.

"What the fuck are you doing here? This is my house and you will never come here again!" He charged forward and Isla stayed strong as he ran into her and she held him back from attacking the blond wizard who was arrogantly smirking as usual, throwing his long blonde hair over his shoulders as if he were not concerned with the matter.

"He was just leaving!" Isla replied, glancing back at Draco to give him a pointed glare.

"Is this what you've been doing while I'm gone - sleeping with your lifelong lover with our son upstairs?" Thom turned on her, his spit spraying her face as he focused on the change of emotions visible on her face.

"What? ! No!" Isla stuttered, sapphire eyes blinking rapidly as she took a small step backwards, as if having been slapped.

"So he just popped by unannounced? And now you're having tea as if you're old chaps? Is that it?" Thom growled and she swore she saw fire behind his green orbs, fierce anger definitely boiling.

"Well, actually -" Draco interrupted but was silenced with a quick "shut the fuck up!" from Thom before he cocked an ashen eyebrow and waited to see how long it would take the imbecile to break him this time.

"I always wondered why you demanded to leave the country so often," he said to Isla, garnering a skeptical gaze from her as she worried where he was going with that. "You were seeing him all these years, weren't you? Every time you came home late - or came in smelling of liquor, you had been with him, hadn't you?" He gave her no time to respond before he grabbed her shoulders roughly and shook her frame. "I knew it was too good to be true. I had wondered but this just confirms it all. You're in love with him - and you always will be. I was always -"

Draco stopped him from hurting Isla any longer, physically and verbally, by moving her out the way so he could grab Thom by his right shoulder to steady his aim before drawing back a clenched fist and slamming it forward against the short stubble of his blunt jaw. The shorter, dark haired wizard fell backwards slightly but quickly regained his balance as a hand came up to rub at the sore area, his other arm rearing back to attempt to land a blow on his blonde opponent. Both being trained in the rigorous Unspeakables methods left little room for either to gain an upper hand as Thom barely grazed his knuckles past Draco's chin but the blonde's neck snapped sideways and Isla audibly whimpered as his eyes rolled back into his head and he seemed to sway.

It was only seconds before Draco was solidly on his feet and he rapidly lunged forward to ram Thom backwards until they hit the short space of wall next to the open door. He was able to knock the wind out of him but Thom found a slight advantage in his shorter height as he was able to raise a fist and bring it up to hit Draco on the underside of his jaw, the blonde stumbling backwards as his vision blurred and his teeth felt like they were rattling in his mouth. He was quick to throw another punch to the blonde's face, this time making contact with his straight nose as blood poured down instantly, before Isla was able to process the level of hatred with which they were fighting and she began screaming.

"Stop! Stop it!"

When that did not get their attention, Draco now holding a hand around his broken nose with a murderous glare in his silver eyes and Thom shaking out his hand as he approached his foe, she hurried in between, her back against Draco's front as Thom continued forward, an arm ready to push Isla out of the way to get to the blonde wizard.

"Thom! Stop it! Stop it! This won't solve anything!"

"Stay out of this! You caused this in the first place!" He fired back, pushing at her shoulder to get her out of the way but Isla grew angier with defiance and she suddenly shoved her chest forward to propel herself to Thom, her weight impacting his momentum so he nearly lost his balance. Isla hastily glanced back to Draco to make sure he had stopped the bleeding, the second lasting too long as Thom rounded back to exert the necessary force to hit her across the cheek. She wanted to immediately hit him back but Isla was shocked, her blue eyes widening as she felt the bruise begin to swell and the pain radiate throughout her face. Tears leaked to the corners of her ocean orbs and even Draco seemed to be too surprised to jump forward.

Thom realized what he had done but did not appear apologetic, instead frowning slightly before his emerald eyes gleamed maliciously and a sneer pulled up one corner of his lips.

"I hope you're happy now," he spat.

A sob tore apart her quivering mouth and Isla wanted to crumble into a shaking heap but her husband quickly glared at Draco behind her, then giving her a once over as he shook his dark head, a hand raising to rub his sore jaw as he glanced down and chuckled mirthlessly.

"You never did make this easy for me," Thom declared bitterly and turned to walk out the open door. Isla closed her eyes to inhale deeply, knowing when she peeled apart her lids everything would have changed. The sound of his Disapparation was distant, the pop barely registering as she raced through a stream of thoughts. Thom had presumably gone to a hotel, or more likely a hotel bar, and she allowed a lone tear to fall off the fringes of her thick eyelashes to splatter across her bruised cheek, all of her assumed sadness for her failed marriage seeping out in that single drop.

Draco was at a loss for what to do now, his first instinct being to comfort her but he knew Isla well enough to understand that she wanted space right now. When she was ready to talk, she would do so. Against his better judgment though he took a silent step forward, his right arm achingly encircling her neck across her collarbones as he gently pulled her backwards to lean against his chest. Isla let a deep breath resound in her lungs, her nostrils inhaling the signature scent that was Draco and her eyes remaining shut until his arm became heavy, itching as if she could not be far enough away from his touch.

Draco followed with his own sigh of discontent, a piece of resonating anger flaring as she lunged forward and spun out of his grasp.

"Love - please," he whispered wearily, his gaze drooping and eyebrows connecting in the middle as his most sympathetic stare morphed his face.

"Please what?" Isla screamed, tears streaming over her flushed cheeks as she began a resentful tirade. "Run back into your arms? - because that made everything so much better? Please, Draco - you've done nothing but destroy my life since the day I met you. You were selfish then and you're selfish now. You can't change yourself as much as I can't change the past - no matter how hard you try, no matter how many times you declare your love and deny your marriage, you can't fix me. You can't fix what you did wrong."

"I know but -"

"But nothing," Isla roared, the salty tracks dry as her chest rapidly heaved and she glared at him with all of the pent up loathing she had stored inside for a dozen years. "You can't even keep your nose out of my business long enough for me to make my own marriage successful. You just **had **to come by so you could make yourself known. You **knew **Thom would be here and you still just _popped by_ to make your demands about a child that you never had any interest in. _He_ was there for me when Isabella was born; _he_ was here when I became depressed and didn't want to leave my bed because I couldn't stand to look at our daughter because she looks so much like you. Thom was there for me and you weren't. You had to go play house with that bitch while I cried myself to sleep for months. You know **nothing **about what I've been through and you know **nothing **about your daughter."

He wanted to lash back at her, he needed to release the ball of guilty fury that was bubbling in his chest but Draco knew it was wisest to ignore her pointed jabs at him if he wanted to keep his plan going, the soft ache across his face reminding him that he had already crossed a bridge today by defending her honor in front of her abusive husband. It was in his nature to grow cold and heartless when things had not gone the Malfoy way yet Draco fought to keep every single change he had made over the years in place as he neutrally stared at Isla's back once she had turned around and began sobbing not so quietly. As the man who loved her, and whom he knew she loved as well, he longed to fully wrap his arms around her and comfort her. Isla would eventually calm down and quit beating her fists against him if he tried - she _would_ understand that he only meant to help her.

But now was not that time and Draco begrudgingly accepted that there was little for him to do while she was so upset, currently at least. This was a minor hiccup in his overall goals, Isla could only resist him for so long after all, and he knew it was in his best interests now to heal his face before his bones healed incorrectly and he gave her another reason to hate looking him in the eye.

Isla would blame herself for as long as it took him to prove her wrong. He knew her inside and out and he realized there had to be another way back into her heart if not through his charms alone. Without reaching out to reassure her that it would be alright, his hand going as far as hovering over her shoulder before he firmly took a step backwards, Draco nodded once to the silent kitchen and easily strode through the kitchen door to pause outside, his grey eyes sad but determined, to glance through the glass windows at his weeping, blonde witch.

The second sound of Disapparation barely registered in her head, enough though for Isla to grasp that Draco had left, and she finally let her lips part to groan mournfully for her own mistakes that had created her unhappiness. Surprised that William had not come hurrying downstairs when the fighting had escalated, she pressed her back against the wall and slid down until she was curled in on herself on the floor. Nearly silent sobs still raking her frame, Isla closed her eyes and rested her head against her knees, now more than ever disgusted by the actions that had once again left her alone.

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**A/N:**

**Thank you for reading. If you would be most gracious I would appreciate you leaving me a review. They mean the world to me and I can't tell you enough how much I am feening for some attention to be shown to this story and its predecessor. The next chapter will be along in a bit, after I get through another chapter or two for Lucky in Fate, so please leave me some feedback to satiate your hunger for Draco and his lovely OC, Isla. **


	7. Meetings of a New Kind

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfiction pleasure.**

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**Chapter Six - Meetings of a New Kind**

He couldn't pinpoint the exact second but Draco was almost positive the moment he shut the heavy wooden door into the Manor after a tortuously slow walk up the gravel he lost his composure. Fredrique must have heard him arrive because the house elf popped into the foyer as he began screaming, his blonde head thrown back in agonizing anger as his face flushed red and his broad chest heaved with ragged breaths. The elf stood back and watched with large eyes as the wizard drew back his already, albeit only slightly, injured right hand and threw all of his weight into the punch as his fist connected with the hard stone wall, bones instantly shattering but Draco felt numb and repeated the motion several more times until his shoulder grew tired and he paused to glare at the rough surface. Fredrique stepped in, gently ushering the wizard he had known since birth up the stairs as the pain set in and he cradled his arm against his stomach.

Like a sleepy child being taken to bed, Draco followed the elf upstairs to his suite, silently grateful that the creature left immediately once they arrived at the cherry oak door so he could disrobe and shower. Gingerly he pushed his shoulder back and pulled his bloody hand through the coat sleeve, tossing it off his body and onto the floor before slipping out of his shoes and ripping open his button down shirt with his good hand. He knew the pain was only going to get worse so Draco gritted his teeth and extended his fingers, stretching them to their full length as tears sprung to his silver eyes and he bit his lip so hard he tasted coppery blood.

Heaving a quick set of breaths he squeezed his fingers back into a ball and then lengthened them again, this time parting his lips to cry out before falling to his knees. Fredrique was there in a split second and the elf rushed to his Master's side, knobby hands precariously holding several vials of varying colors.

"You must drink this," he prodded and Draco wearily glanced down, eying the outstretched vial with trepidation. The advanced bone repairing potions he casually had in his private storage brought immensely less pain than the famed Skele-Gro but it still caused completely unpleasant sensations where it was working its magic. Reaching across his body he pinched the glass container between two fingers delicately, parting his bruised mouth to shallow the potion in one gulp as his grey eyes slid shut and he winced at the after taste. Fredrqiue watched him with a scrutinizing eye for a moment, satisfied that his efforts were not in vain when Draco grabbed the glass of water the elf then offered him, gulping down the liquid as if he had been in a desert for too long.

"Leave me," Draco commanded, his blonde head dropping against his chest as the potion's effects began soothing his aches and relieving his pain.

"Yes, sir," Fredrique responded, slightly bowing his large head before the click of Apparation told him he was alone in his suite.

He was too tired to do anything but Draco slid his knees over the thick carpet, pushing himself up to stand slowly as he fought back the wave of dizziness that consumed his vision. The skin that had puckered over his healing facial wounds tightened as the soft surface smoothed itself and only a yellowing bruise was left along the left side of his face as he held in a weary sigh, both hands tentatively peeling the bloodied shirt off his shoulders before it fell to the floor in a crumpled pile, joined shortly by his black slacks that were spattered with dried crimson drops. His bathroom was covered in pristine, white tiles that were soon dirtied as Draco trekked through the clean space to pull open the glass door of his shower, his better hand reaching in to twist the metal knob as steam erupted into the see-through cubicle.

It felt as if he had waited years to shower once the scorching water touched his skin. The water ran off in a clear pink color, pooling around the drain before disappearing all together as Draco shut his silver eyes and ran his fingers through his sopping blonde locks. His mind began to wander as he stood under the hot stream and he became numb to the tenderness of his skin as he replayed the events that had led him to be injured in the first place. Isla's bruised face was the first image to pop into his head and he grimaced at the purpled swelling that had already taken effect when he had left her house. The progression of Thom's anger, righteous as it may have been, went in reverse as he saw the dark haired wizard go back on his actions to the time when he had just walked in. Screaming internally that he could have stopped the man's fury, Draco blindly balled his left hand and punched it into the clean tiles near to his head, wincing in pain once more but he allowed his hand to drop to his naked hip as his head leaned forward to rest against the slippery wall.

How had he let it get that far?

Draco had known better than to just show up at Isla's house, granted he had overlooked the possibility that Thom would come home for lunch, but he couldn't fight the overwhelming desire to see her anymore. He had to know if she still held feelings for him somewhere deep inside, even though he had known since he had seen her at the train station that their love wasn't going to die from lack of involvement or the lapsing of time, and sure enough he had been able to read her like a book once she let her ridiculous walls down. But Isla was still going to fight him until the end, until he shoved it in her face that she needed him as much as he needed her.

The water was growing cool over his pale flesh and Draco hurried, as fast as he could anyways, to run a bar of soap over his tired muscles and lather his platinum locks, rinsing away the suds as he remained standing under the stream. The air was chilly outside of the shower stall and his healing skin produced goose bumps as he pressed his toes into the plush rug in front of the cubicle and reached for a cream towel hanging off a peg just next to the glass wall. So much had happened in so little time that when he glanced sideways out a small, foggy window, Draco forgot that it was still only the middle of the afternoon and that the sun had yet to set. His joints still creaked and the pain was dissolving all over but he knew that he had to make sure that he was physically perfect for when Astoria returned home.

Wrapping the towel around his waist and tucking the loose end against his hip, Draco let his shoulders sag as he approached the large vanity mirror on the opposite side of his bathroom. His sore left hand rose to wipe away a swatch of condensation, leaving a small circle on the surface where he tentatively looked up to gaze at his reflection. The swelling had gone down along his cheekbone and the yellowed bruises were vaguely disappearing as he stood there, motionless as his eyes roved over the memorized lines of his face. The only indication of his skirmish with Thom earlier was a slight bump along the bridge of his nose, a distinguishing feature if you were to notice it but otherwise the protruding bone enhanced the handsomeness of his aristocratic image. Placing his wide palms on either side of the marble sink, he leaned forward, his towhead bowing as he shut his mercury eyes and inhaled deeply.

He felt like he had lost the battle but Draco better than anybody knew that the war was not over. Guilt bubbled up for his less than discretional actions that had concluded with the dissolution of Isla's marriage but anger fueled over that weak emotion as he realized her nuptials should have never happened in the first place. It was his fault that she had been hurt today and he alone was to blame for her unhappiness. If he had not been so self sacrificing ten years ago he would have everything that he wanted right now. He would not be standing in his lavatory, alone, while he brooded over his mistakes.

Straightening his stance and pulling his lips into a tight line, Draco glared at his own reflection and felt a tinge of self pity for the man looking back at him. This was not who he had wanted to become and now he was doomed to repeat his father's mistakes and live a loveless life. He had loved his mother with his whole heart and as much as he loathed his decision to marry the attractive blonde, he also did not want Astoria to die miserable and regretful of the path her life had taken as well.

His muscles protested movement but he took a step backwards, drawing himself up to his full six feet and four inches of height as he clenched his fists to keep from smashing a hand through the mirror. His feet began walking and Draco forced his head up as he again entered his bedroom, gaze briefly landing on the small pile of bloodied clothing in front of his bed before he turned and moved into his enormous closet.

He was enshrouded behind a row of dress robes, picking through a line of pressed trousers, when the nearly silent click of his door disrupted the quiet and Astoria eagerly poked her head inside the room. Draco did not hear her enter and had just dropped his towel to slid one leg into a pair of pants when he did hear a faint gasp. Thinking he was just hearing things, he continued getting dressed but his heart hammered to a stop in his chest when he suddenly heard his name echoing distantly.

"Draco?"

"Draco?"

He instantly recognized Astoria's voice and grabbing a black t-shirt off a hanger, he rushed through the angled walls of his closet, halting in the entrance when he saw her sitting on the edge of his bed, back to him, and sighing in relief that she did not appear to be in distress as he had assumed.

"Astoria?" He asked the blonde witch, pulling his shirt over his head as he slowly paced to stand beside her. His stomach plummeted when he saw over her shoulder and noticed his crimson stained button down in her hands, her fingers lightly tracing the red smatters without looking up. "Love - is everything ok? Do you feel alright?" He questioned, knowing that she was indeed fine but hoping to take her attention away from the evidence of his fight.

"What happened?" She queried, pale head twisting so she could meet his hesitant stare with knowing eyes.

"Oh it was nothing," Draco hurried to say. "I was out flying earlier and fell. How was your day shopping with Pansy?"

Still his diverted questions did not draw her attention away and he pressed his lips together to hold a mask of indifference as her crystal blue eyes drank in his forced disposition.

"What really happened?" Astoria asked with flat, toneless conviction. "Fredrique told me that your face had been injured and I know you wouldn't have let that happen just from a broom accident."

Sighing to himself and damning the clever elf, Draco glanced away, returning his gaze to the arch of her eyebrow as he debated telling her the truth and making her more upset or lying again and hoping she would not question his second untruth.

"I. . . I got into a fight at the office. Rencomb was bragging about his status as a top Unspeakable and began taunting me for bypassing an offered promotion that was instead given to him." The gist of the story was true but the basic principle was twisted for his own advantage. "Bloody wanker said that I have given up all professional ambition and was just a sniveling bitch for Zabini. I got too worked up and decked him."

Astoria narrowed her gaze, knowing still that he was lying but not willing at this point to call him out on it when he was going through the trouble of various charades. She let the bloodied shirt fall back to floor and nodded slowly, her hands knotting in her lap as she let the silence fill the room.

"Are you alright, love?" Draco asked when it was apparent that his lie would suffice. "Do you need a tonic or a pain reliever?"

She shook her head no, jumping slightly when his warm hand cupped her shoulder and squeezed gently. His forward actions were proving that he was compensating for his misdeeds but she genuinely was too tired to shrug off his touch.

"Just a little exhausted is all," she responded, a weary tone backing up her excuse as she sighed but continued to explain her day. "Pansy was great - she wanted to take me all over London, into every store, but after we ate lunch I was too tired to keep paroosing the streets. I should have taken a Pepper Up with me but I thought I could get through the day without one."

Draco sat down next to her on the edge of the bed, his weight sliding her towards him as his left arm snaked around her shoulders and pulled her sideways against his chest, his blonde head turning so he could brush his lips against the wrinkled skin of her temples. Her body felt wrong beneath his arm and he pressed her closer to his body still to keep her from thinking otherwise now when she needed his support more than Isla wanted his heckling.

"I'm going up France in the morning to meet with a few Muggle specialist that Dr. Machepani arranged for," Astoria said after a moment's silence. "They're just going to run some tests and explain the options better."

"I'll go with you," Draco automatically said.

"No - I'll be fine," she insisted. "It won't be anything extensive and I don't want you to be there if they're going to be poking me with needles." She grimaced at the notion and his lips faintly turned up in a smile at her dislike for all things sharp and pointy.

"If you're sure -" he started, not really wanting to go with her but still feeling obligated that he should.

"No, no. I'll go by myself - it will just be hours of sitting and waiting on the doctors," Astoria assured him.

"Alright then," Draco responded, his words trailing up with inflection to give her the option of still saying yes. He held her against his side for several minutes longer, his overactive mind already thinking about what he could do tomorrow that would take him away from work and away from being alone at the Manor where his thoughts were constantly circling Isla. It had only been two weeks but Draco could not deny that he already missed the constant chatter and exuberance that always accompanied Scorpius. There was still time left today to owl the Headmistress to request time with his son and as the idea blossomed Draco became eager for the possibility of seeing his child, his hands fidgeting as he realized the visit would seem unusual for him if he did not tell the boy about his mother's illness. Then again, he was on the school board and had been a very generous benefactor for the educational system since he had left the institution himself - there was always the option of explaining the trip as a business priority. "I need to travel to Hogwarts tomorrow anyways," he briskly stated and he instantly felt Astoria tense, her ashen head rotating to look at him in confusion, her eyebrows knitted together as if to say that he had not mentioned that before.

"What for?" She queried skeptically, her mind racing as she wondered if he would see their son.

"I have to speak to McGonagall about funding for the Quidditch programs and about remodeling the pitch. I should have gone over the summer so construction could have already begun but it slipped my mind," Draco easily lied, his silver gaze turning to meet her inquiring blue eyes with no hesitation.

"Are you going to see Scorpius as well?" She questioned and he knew then and there that she understood his line of conniving thinking too well.

He was cautious in answering because Astoria was sure to already know what he was going to say and what she would ask him next. "I have thought about it. I guess I could take him to lunch in Hogsmeade."

"Are you going to tell him about - me?"

Draco exhaled loudly, cursing the day he triumphantly thought he had married a pretty witch with no brains or intuition. "Do you want me to?" He asked honestly, completely aware that it was her decision to tell Scorpius about her health. "He should hear it from you but I don't want him to come home for Christmas and find you wilting away in your bed."

Astoria dropped her gaze and stared at the thick carpet, pondering her options with tears forming in her eyes as the realness of her impending death sunk in.

"If you think he can handle it, then tell him. If you think **you **can handle it then do it." Her words were full of conviction but Draco knew she was breaking inside at the realization of her situation. He would have to be strong enough for the both of them now.

"Why don't you go lie down?" He said instead of saying something else that would further her grief. "I'll wake you when dinner is ready."

Astoria nodded against his chest, one hand coming up to wipe away the slight wetness around her eyes as she forced a smile to her face and bravely met his blank stare. "Thank you," she whispered and Draco could only nod in response. "We'll get through this," Astoria intoned, wrapping her left arm around his middle to give him a brief hug before she hastily stood up and hurried out of his chambers. He sighed wearily, rubbing his forehead to relieve the slow growing migraine, and fell backwards across his bed to listlessly stare at the canopy of his bed as he worried over the women in his life and how fast they were going to drive him crazy.

Dinner was a somber event that evening, Astoria was too worn out once she crawled into bed to get up for the meal and Draco sent Fredrique upstairs with a tray so she could rest and still be fed. He took his supper alone in the long dining room, still sitting at the head of the table as was customary, and slowly ate his own plate as he reminisced on his days growing up in the Manor. He felt like his son's childhood was becoming more and more like his own and above all else he had strove to be nothing like his father, which had of course turned him into Lucius. Draco was never harsh with Scorpius yet he felt the same distant relationship with him as he had had growing up. Maybe this trip tomorrow would be good for them, maybe Scorpius would see that his father did love him and that he was more than a drunken mistake.

Draco spent several hours in his office that evening, sitting by the fire with a short glass of Firewhiskey in hand as he stared into the flames until he saw patterns between the flickering light. Astoria had not left her chambers since that afternoon and while he was remorseful for her predicament, he was grateful that her illness was enabling her to travel to give him time alone. It was not exactly how a husband should feel for his wife but Draco steadfastly held onto the claim that their marriage was more of the arranged sort than one consummated out of love. Each time his tumbler ran low on alcohol the glass bottle hovered over the cup and filled it back up to the brim, cocooning him into the wing tipped leather chair until the old clock chimed midnight and he succumbed to the wave of tiredness and fatigue that he had been dodging all day after his scuffle.

The next morning Astoria seemed to be in good spirits, despite the nature of her trip, and she chattered aimlessly throughout breakfast as Draco pushed around his pile of scrambled eggs and pretended to politely listen. In actuality his mind was focused on his own traveling to Hogwarts and the anxiety that was building with his promise to tell Scorpius about his mother's failing health. He knew he would be able to admit to the boy the rough news but he worried how he would take it and if his son would blame him.

"Hello? Draco?" Astoria said, breaking his reverie as she waved a hand in front of his face. "Are you in there?"

Her short giggle brought the outline of a smile to his rosy lips and his golden eyebrows rose up his forehead as he wordlessly waited for her to repeat whatever she had just said. "Sorry, what was that?"

"I _said_ - that I'm about to leave. Will you walk me out?"

"Oh yes - I should be going as well," Draco replied, balling up his napkin and tossing it onto his plate as he pushed back his chair and stood.

Astoria seemed thinner than normal as he held her coat open for her to slid her arms inside and he rested his hands on either of her shoulders as he bent forward and placed a chaste kiss to the crown of her blonde head. The short witch leaned back into his embrace, silently hoping that he would change his mind and ask to come with her yet not surprised, though still disappointed, when he turned her around for a proper hug before holding her at arm's length and saying, "If those medieval Muggle doctors give you any reason to panic, or overtly worry, just Floo me and I will be right there. You have no reason to worry, everything will be fine. Alright?"

She nodded, a terse grin pulling at her mouth to hide the fat drops of salty tears that were seconds away from forming on the rims of her vision.

"And if I am not back by the time you get home, send an owl to the school. Don't hesitate to contact me, okay? This is as big a day for me as it is for you." Draco knew he was overcompensating with his caring words but he did not want Astoria to suspect his cold eagerness for the progression of her illness. He was sending her away to find out how long she had left to live, granted he was going to tell their son about it, but all he cared for was how he was going to be affected and when he would be free of this marriage sham.

He watched her nervously walk out the front door and turn to cautiously smile before she waved her wand and disappeared with the pop of Apparation. As soon as she was gone Draco shut the front door and hurried through the winding corridors of the Manor to his office. Slipping his arms into his black robe with the thin emerald border he strode to the large fireplace and grabbed a handful of shimmery green Floo powder. Not wanting to wait any longer, as he truly did have to speak to McGonagall about the Quidditch pitch, he ducked underneath the stone ledge and crouched inside the sooty mantle, throwing the magical dust to his feet as he yelled "Hogwarts!" and then felt his intestines compact as he was pulled from the Manor to gracefully land in the fireplace within the Headmistress' office.

"Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall greeted him, her eyes narrowed in suspicion as her usual tartan robes swished with her movement towards. "So nice to see you."

"And the same to you, Headmistress," Draco responded politely, stepping forward to grasp her hand and deftly bring it to his lips to kiss the backside of her palm. "I am glad we were able to finally meet to discuss the funds for the Quidditch program."

"Yes," the Professor replied, her nose rising delicately as she tried to hide her years of ingrained dislike for the blonde wizard and his family. "It is gracious of you to offer the donation."

"I can't have the students not knowing how to fly or not having a love for the game, can I?" He cheekily and rhetorically said, grinning with as much charm as he could muster but the elder witch merely tilted her gray head in a slight nod and turned to walk to the raised dais, sitting behind her desk silently as she inclined him to sit across from her with a wave of her hand.

Their meeting was productive at best and by the time it was over Draco was itching to be out of the Headmistress' presence. As he had informed her in his owl the night before, he was taking Scorpius down to Hogsmeade for a few hours. He knew McGonagall would not object since he had just signed a check for a sizable enough amount that they would probably not need any other donations, for anything, for several years. Draco bolted down the spiral staircase from her office as he had done when he was a teenager and visiting Dumbledore, pausing to catch his breath at the bottom as it proved the years had caught up to him.

Scorpius did not know who it was that he was meeting but McGonagall had informed Professor Slughorn of the boy's allowed absence from the afternoon classes that Friday and the Slytherin Head of House had told him to go to the Main Entrance when classes were dismissed for lunch. Draco was anxiously waiting just by the monumental front doors, his sleek hands in his pocket as he bounced on the balls of his feet and began walking tight circles.

He had turned to study one of the various portraits on the stone wall next to the right door and he heard him before he saw him. Draco grinned easily as Scorpius bantered with a crisp female but their chatter ceased when the boy saw his father and he stopped hesitantly, worried that something was wrong or that he was in trouble as he cautiously called, "Dad?"

His grin became a mega watt smile and Draco seamlessly turned on the spot, ready to run up and grab his son in a tight hug when he saw the girl he had been talking to. Isabella was dressed immaculately in Slytherin robes and she looked as perfect and inquiring as the first day he saw her at the train station. She noticed his wide eyed gaze on her and she narrowed her mirroring silver orbs suspiciously as Scorpius glanced sideways at his friend.

"Son!" Draco finally stated, his hesitation disappearing as his hands breached the recesses of his pockets and his arms opened wide to engulf the boy as he took several steps forward. "I've missed you."

"Dad, what's wrong?" Scorpius asked after returning the squeeze and leaning backwards in his father's embrace. "Why are you here?"

Isabella was watching curiously, now having remembered Draco from the September 1st and his encounter with her mother. He saw her stare but ignored her curiosity, and his own, as he smiled reassuringly at his son.

"Does something have to be wrong for me to want to see my son?" Draco admonished, all of his armor gone in front of his child. Scorpius stepped back, adjusting the strap of his book bag on his shoulder as he seemed to just then realize Isabella was still standing there. "Your mother went to the Continent for some - designer appointments and I thought I would come see you, take you down to Hogsmeade for a bit."

"What about his classes?" Isabella interjected, slightly jealous that Scorpius' father was paying him a visit at school yet still eager to know more about the curious man. "We have a test next week in Muggle Studies and he can't miss the lecture," she said and Draco was faintly reminded of Hermione Granger, although he himself had been a know it all as well as a child.

Turning to smile gently at the platinum haired witch, he knew that he already liked the kid as he responded with, "Well maybe one of his good friends will let him copy their notes but I'm sure your Professor already has those for him since she has been notified of his absence."

Isabella frowned, unsure of how she could respectfully rebutt his statement because she was not sure if he was being serious or just attempting to be sarcastically arrogant.

"Who's your friend, Scorpius?" Draco knowingly asked his son, something inside of him straining for a formal introduction to the girl since Isla refused to do so. How had he gotten lucky enough from Fate to have this completely random opportunity to know her?

His son twisted his torso, glancing between the two as if he dreaded introducing any of his friends to one of his parents. "Dad - this is Isabella," Scorpius gestured to the witch as she pursed her bee stung lips into a straight line. "Ella - this is my father, Draco Malfoy."

His eyebrows quirked up in surprise at the nickname, the name rolling off the tongue much easier than her given name and he extended his right hand to the girl as he dipped his head in a nod and smiled gently.

"Ella Mercade, sir," she offered stiffly but politely, placing her small palm in his larger hand and wrapping her fingers around the ridges of his knuckles.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Ella," Draco responded and he grinned stupidly, earning an even deeper frown from the girl, as for the first time in his life he held the hand of his daughter tightly, knowing now that he had met her he was never going to let go.

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**A/N: **Wowie - another chapter done. Please leave me a review and tell me what you think - I love your feedback - and let me know how you feel about the progression of this story so far. It's going to be a lot slower than TnT, hence why the chapters are shorter. Thank you for reading and feel free to read through the first story and the beginning chapters, repeatedly :) , until the next one is posted.

Find me on facebook by clicking my homepage link on my profile for better updates on upcoming posts and just for all around fun, I promise I'm not a stalker it's just a fun way for me to delve deeper into the stories I write. Add me with a message of your penname on this site or just 'fanfiction' works.


	8. A Most Interesting Conversation

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfiction pleasure.**

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**Chapter Seven - A Most Interesting Conversation **

Scorpius watched his father expectantly as Draco stared at Isabella with a not so well hidden wide grin turning up his lips. She glanced to her friend, wondering why his father was looking at her like she was a fleeting, wondrous faerie, but tentatively smiled anyways.

"So dad -" Scorpius started, gaining Draco's full attention as he snapped out of his reverie. "We're going to Hogsmeade? In the middle of the school day?" The towheaded boy was still unsure as to why one of his parents would just show up at Hogwarts, he had not seen any other student's afforded such a luxury. He was a tad home sick but Scorpius had decided it was something all First years had to go through and he should not expect preferential treatment because of his last name.

"Yes!" Draco beamed. "We'll have lunch and walk around the village if you like." His excitement over meeting his daughter was bubbling just under the surface but he knew the strange looks from both children were telling enough that he was indeed acting strange.

"Are you sure?" Scorpius asked hesitantly, glancing sideways to meet Isabella's silver gaze as she tilted her blonde head in consideration. "What about McGonagall?"

"Don't worry about the Headmistress," Draco gloated, proud of himself for finagling this outing when it now held so much more opportunity than it had when he had planned it out yesterday. "She and I go way back. It's all taken care of."

"Ooookay," Scorpius responded, his small hand adjusting the strap of his book bag as he turned his torso towards the blonde witch and gave her a look as if to say, here goes nothing. "Let's go then," he told his father and Draco let his eyebrows raise in amusement. He was already so willing to make spending time with a parent go quicker. "I'll see you later, El," the boy called to his friend and she halfheartedly waved before turning to walk towards the Great Hall.

"Wait - hold on now," Draco too eagerly said, his mercury eyes darting between the children as they shared a glance and looked to him. "Would you like to come with us? The Headmistress did say she was stepping out for the day and I'm sure your Professors would be hard pressed to deny you this - opportunity."

Again Scorpius and Isabella held a mental conversation as they stared each other down, his cheeks faintly blushing at his father's bold invitation and her brow knitted together as if to question if she should accept.

"Come on - we'd love for you to join us. Isn't that right, son?" Draco prodded the boy and grinned cheekily when Scorpius twisted with wide eyes.

"Uh - yeah - yeah we'd love for you to come with us," Scorpius stuttered and Isabella nodded once and rotated back to stand before the father and son.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," she said with quiet confidence. "I would be honored."

The platinum haired trio easily made their way down the front lawn and through the tall gates at the entrance to school, Scorpius nervously chattering to fill the silence as they followed the path to the wizarding village. Draco held a tight lipped smile as his son rambled on, reminding him so much of Astoria with the habit to always have someone talking. Her ailing health was brought to the forefront of his thoughts and he worried that he shouldn't tell his son about the disease now.

Hogsmeade was fairly quiet with a scattered few villagers ambling about minding their own business. Some shops were full of patrons while others held their doors open to welcome anyone passing by. The Hog's Head was still sitting perched on the corner of the two main streets in the small town and although it was not common, Draco knew he would be alright bringing two underage wizards into the pub during lunch time. Madame Rosmerta was still behind the bar, looking significantly older but the war had aged everyone differently, and he raised a hand in greeting to her as they entered the tavern.

"Go sit at that table," he said pointing to a semicircular booth in the front right corner of the large room. "I'll be right over," he added before turning to work his way to the bar with a cheerful grin in place.

"Look who tha cat drug in," Madame Rosmerta stated with a tugging smile, her hands on her hips with a dishrag clutched between her fingers. "If it isn't the Lord Malfoy and his band of children."

"Good afternoon to you too," Draco retorted with a mouthful of sarcasm, his lips turned up in a roguish grin as his elbows rested on the edge of the wooden bar and he assessed the elder witch.

"I don't see your lot too often," Rosmerta said and he could tell she was pausing to see if he would react to the open ended statement. "Parents bringing in their children during a school term. Most of 'em drop 'em off and that's that. Pity that I thought the war would change all that." She began wiping off imagined spots off the bar top to distract herself, from saying too much or too little, he could only guess.

"Well - it's a special occasion," Draco offered, which was partially true.

"Oh? And what's that?" The barmaid was suddenly nosing for gossip and he shifted his silver gaze to stare into the mirror on the back wall that reflected the entire tavern. Two blonde heads were bent together at a dark table in the very far edges of the mirror and he held his gaze a moment before glancing back to Rosmerta.

"Just - good news," he stated and a sideways glance into the mirror brought a small smile to his full lips, the lines of his handsome face turning upwards in silent happiness.

"Uh huh," Rosmerta intoned and she nodded towards the chattering children across the room. "Those are yours then? Twins it looks like," she added with full knowledge that Draco Malfoy only had one child.

She did not miss the sweeping, fleeting wave of heartbroken guilt that passed over his features before he shook his head and smiled tightly.

"That's my son, Scorpius, and his Housemate."

"Coulda fooled me," Rosmerta laughed and Draco nodded once, inwardly disdained at the snooping turn of the conversation. "They look so much alike. And both Slytherins - but who else would a Malfoy associate with?" She falsely laughed once more and he decided the war had not changed many people, the barmaid included.

Draco pushed himself backwards and stood to his full height, knowing he seemed more imposing as his broad shoulders and dark cloak contrasted starkly with his pale hair and fair complexion. "If you'll send a server to our table I would appreciate it," he said evenly, equally conveying that he was dissatisfied with their chat as he turned on his heel and hurried to the alcoved booth on the opposite side of the room.

Scorpius and Isabella immediately stopped talking when he came close and they both glanced up as Draco roughly slid into the booth next to his son.

"Who's that, dad?" The boy asked curiously, Isabella watching his facial movements as well as he focused on a knot in the wooden table.

"Just the barkeep - an old acquaintance, if you will," he responded and the children shut their mouths at the tightness of his voice.

A young ebony haired waitress approached their table with a beaming smile in place and their stiffness of the table did not persuade her from easily tossing three small napkins in front of the trio and cheerfully stating, "I'm Kelsi - what can I get ya ta drink?"

"Firewhiskey for me," Draco ordered despite the quick glances from Isabella and Scorpius. "What would you like to have?" He looked over at the two Slytherins and they simultaneously said, "Water." Kelsi nodded once and walked away, leaving the father and his children alone at the table.

Barely a moment passed before Scorpius dutifully filled the empty air. "So dad - what's up? Why the random visit?"

Draco cocked a pale eyebrow, his silver orbs running over them both as they watched him intuitively. Children never really had been his forte.

"Well -" he began followed by a dramatic pause. "I just wanted to see you. Your mother is out of the country and - and I missed you, son."

"Yeah, yeah. Why are you really here?" Scorpius asked without preamble.

Draco was momentarily flustered by the bluntness of the question and he flicked his gaze to Isabella, her own mercury eyes narrowing and turning to Scorpius, as if to imply that they were in front of company. He could not forget whose daughter she was - who her mother was.

"It's fine, dad. Ella won't say anything. I trust her," the young boy of only eleven years old resolutely stated with a firm, straight line setting his mouth. Scorpius looked all the part of a Malfoy heir and Draco was fleetingly proud of his son's convictions and loyalty before a nervous pull stretched the muscles in his shoulders tensely.

"Can't I just see my son without you questioning my motives?" Draco teased with an easy smile and he was saved for a few minutes from continuing as Kelsi stopped in front of their table and balanced a tray while depositing their drinks on the appointed napkins.

"Ya knoh wha ya want ta eat?" She chirped happily and Draco tilted his head and rolled his eyes so only Isabella could see. The girl instantly grinned and her quicksilver orbs sparkled as he smiled too and winked conspiratorially. They ordered quickly and the waitress was gone with the promise of a fast meal, leaving the table silent once more as the children shared a quiet and pointed glance.

"How are your classes so far?" Draco queried to keep them from silently communicating as his large hands folded neatly on the edge of the rounded table. "You both have the same schedule, correct?"

"Yes sir," Isabella dutifully answered, finally piping up for the first time since they left the castle and Draco turned his attention to her as he took in every detail of the child he never knew. "Except Scorpius is trying out for the House Quidditch team and I am not."

Scorpius elbowed her in the side and made a protesting noise, his eyes wide, as Isabella turned to him with a questioning look. Draco took it in stride - he was proud that his son was following in his footsteps and joining the team.

"And why are you not participating as well?" He asked of Isabella and she appeared stunned by his inquiry before she blanked her face and demurely responded.

"I have never had much luck on a broom. My father would never allow it at home but my mother often let me try when he was not there."

_That sounds just like Isla,_ Draco thought with a twisting grin. "I know for a fact that your mother is an excellent flyer. Maybe you should give it another chance and see if you have her natural abilities."

Isabella considered his reasoning and Scorpius looked frozen at the idea of competing against his best friend for a spot on the Quidditch team. If she was anything like her mother, or her father, Isabella would take to the skies as if it were second nature. She just had to be convinced that she was good enough for the role.

"Maybe," she pondered aloud. "But I don't know a whole lot about Quidditch - I'm not even sure what position I would be best at."

"I was a Seeker myself," Draco boasted, his chest puffing up slightly at the mention of his school days. "We would have won the House Cup my Seventh year if they had not temporarily banned the sport after the war."

"Why did they do that?" Isabella asked and Scorpius looked on, partially happy and jealous that someone else was talking to his usually distant father.

Draco shook his blonde head, the platinum locks swaying in front of his eyes before he answered with a trace of angry scorn in his tone.

"Many students lost their lives at the Battle of Hogwarts. Most of us that were left were still too young to understand how much pain we truly were in. So they banned the sport to keep us from killing each other in the air and continuing the rivalries that they hoped to squash after Voldemort's downfall."

"I want to be a Seeker too," Scorpius interjected, drawing their attention to himself after growing irritated with their seemingly closed conversation. "Just like you, dad," he added with a proud grin and Draco's heart expanded and beat rapidly for his son.

"Of course you are, my boy. A Malfoy could never be anything but the best." He noticed Isabella frown and he quickly supplied for her, "But the other positions are just as admirable and worth working for as the Seeker."

She nodded once but appeared miffed by his comment. If only she knew that she too was a Malfoy and deserved only the best.

"So Isabella - what interests you? What do you like to do in your free time?"

"Daaaaad," Scorpius immediately whined, obviously embarrassed with his father's questioning of his friend.

"What?" Draco asked innocently. "I just want to get to know your companions."

Scorpius rolled his eyes but didn't say anything more, his short arms crossing over his chest as Isabella spun her half empty glass of water between her fingers, the condensation sliding down the cup to pool on the wooden table.

"I enjoy reading. And writing," Isabella tonelessly stated, her words merely said to answer his question but her mouth kept moving as she continued automatically - a small trait of Isla's that he noticed instantly. There was a slight pause where she thought about finishing speaking before she rambled on without hesitation. "My mother taught me how to read before I could even walk I think and she always says I would crawl around carrying a book until I could stand and then all of our books were ruined as I dragged them with me everywhere. My little brother, William, seems to enjoy the picture books better than the ones with actual words though." Isabella chuckled to herself and Draco knew his mercury eyes were softening as he watched the girl.

"And what do you like to write?"

"Just poems and very short stories," Isabella said with a slight blush of embarrassment. Perhaps she had never openly admitted to her creative talent. "I have helped my dad with some of his speeches before - just reading through them. He doesn't listen to my opinion very much though," she stated and Draco detected a hint of sadness at Thom's negligence of the daughter he had raised.

"I wouldn't worry about that, lovely," he said with an encouraging tone. "He was never the brightest wizard if I recall correctly."

Draco unfolded his hands and reached across the table to pat her small wrist paternally and Scorpius felt a pang of jealousy, for Isabella taking to his father so easily and for his father becoming so enamored with his best friend. He looked the part of the spoiled child as his face scrunched into a pout and his arms tightened over his chest. Draco saw the boy's obvious jealousy and smirked, he was treating her like a sibling without even realizing it. Retracting his arm his stretched his shoulders back until his elbow was tucked behind Scorpius' neck and he pulled the boy towards him with a genial grin.

"And you, son - what have you been up to that you have failed to mention in your one letter to your mother?"

"You've only written home _once?"_ Isabella interjected, her disbelieving tone telling Draco that Scorpius had promised his friend too that he would owl his parents more. "I don't think a day has gone by that I haven't sent a letter to my mother."

"See, son - who said it was 'uncool' to talk to your parents? Isabella here actually seems to enjoy it," he teasingly prodded, tossing a sly glance to the young witch as she beamed under his praises of her behavior.

"Daaaad," Scorpius groaned. "I've been busy," he defended, his demeanor now proud and arrogant as he tried his best to not look at his father.

"With what?" Draco questioned and Isabella giggled at the fluent banter between the two. Scorpius had told her that his father was not the loving type but she seriously doubted that after interacting with the man so personally.

"School. And Quidditch. And making friends. Isn't that what you _wanted_ me to do?" Scorpius was growing testy and the haughty attitude reminded Draco heavily of himself at that age.

"Yes, yes - you're right," he conceded. "I just want to make sure you're not running around with a gaggle of witches yet. You're still too young for _that_ - even if you do have my handsome good looks and charming personality."

"But I heard you were a Death Eater, Mr. Malfoy," Isabella piped in before she could hold it back. The comment caught Draco off guard and even Scorpius appeared taken aback at the prying statement. This was certainly not something he had wished to discuss with his daughter the first time they sat and down and spoke.

"I'm afraid those rumors are false, Isabella," he evenly replied, his voice neutral and toneless so as to not convey the caustic side of his multifaceted personality. "My father was the loyal follower of Voldemort - not myself."

"So you didn't kill the Headmaster while you were at Hogwarts?" She dared to ask, Scorpius now afraid that he would have to act as the buffer and protect Isabella should his father swing into one of his infamous moods.

Draco cracked a tiny smile though, to this day he was still labeled as Dumbledore's murderer. "That is not true either - fortunately."

"Yea," Scorpius butted in, his silver gaze defiant as he turned to his friend with a condemning glare. "Didn't you read that in one of your books? Even Harry Potter said that it was Professor Snape."

"I'm sorry - I didn't mean -" Isabella tried, tears welling in her eyes from her embarrassment and minor scolding.

"It's alright," Draco comforted her. "A lot has changed since the war. Your mother even helped me to change my reputation."

Intrigued Isabella cocked her curly head to the side and nervously tugged on her green and silver robes as she stuttered, "Re-really?"

"Yes. She helped me to believe in myself when no one else would and she taught me how to be self-sacrificing - even when it hurts yourself more than it hurts other." It was all true but he could not help but to frown at his own admission. He had sacrificed more than his own happiness when he chose to do the right thing so many years ago.

"But - she never speaks of you," Isabella noted forlornly, suddenly feeling like she was getting a peek into her mother's secretive life that had been hidden from her.

Draco smiled tightly, his quicksilver gaze light as he glanced out the large window across the front of the large room.

"I can't imagine that she would - those were dark times for us all and I'm sure she does not want to relive those painful memories."

Kelsi appeared next to their table with the wide tray again, her bubbly face fixed with a smile as she distributed their plates and effectively ended the tense conversation. "Anythin' else aye can get fa ya?" The waitress asked with a tad too much enthusiasm.

"No - we're fine for now, thank you," Draco replied and the young, dark haired witch tucked the tray against her side and walked off to attend to another table. They were silent as they ate, dutifully shoveling the food into their mouths so as to not have to speak. Draco felt slightly uncomfortable, what did Isabella think of him now?, and the children dared not utter a word lest his good mood have left. The next time Kelsi came back to their booth to check on their progress he asked for the tab and another Firewhiskey. Throwing the drink back, truly not caring that they watched his movements, some of the tension along his shoulders eased and he felt in his pockets for a handful of coins in payment, standing to leave as soon as he laid the money down.

"Come on you two. Let's go walk around for a bit before I have to get you back to the castle."

Scorpius slid out of the booth first and stood stiffly next to the end to offer a hand to Isabella as she scooted off the seat. The action brought a tick to his ashen eyebrow and a frown turned down his full lips, if that was what he thought it was it would be better for everyone if the children knew they were related sooner rather than later. Draco led the way through the maze of tables and he briefly nodded at Madame Rosmerta behind the bar as he held the door open and allowed the young pair to walk through.

It was mid afternoon and most of the villagers had retired for a quick nap before the evening began, leaving the streets almost bare as the trio ambled up the North end of Main Street. Scorpius, appearing to have gotten over his bout of brattiness, chattered easily and Isabella kept up with his conversation as Draco threw in random comments to their amusement. An hour later they were back at the large intersection and although they both looked slightly tired, they instantly perked up when he suggested they visit Honeyduke's before returning to Hogwarts. The very full store had a handful of customers milling about but the ever present scent of sugar wafted throughout the entire space as Draco watched Scorpius and Isabella take off down different aisles. He had promised them each a bag of whatever candy they would like and they had lit up like it was Christmas morning at his announcement. Isabella squealed with delight and Scorpius looked like the bright eyed boy he remembered from years past.

Draco shoved his hands in his pockets and slowly ambled along the front row next to the large window display. His gaze danced over the various jars and baskets brimming with assorted lollipops and bagged chocolates but his mind was playing with thoughts of Isla and their daughter, and Scorpius and his mother. Today had fermented in his head that he wanted to be a part of Isabella's life and he would be damned if he didn't get what he wanted. Now that he had had a chance to get to know his other child, Draco was going to be as selfish as it took to win her over. This only gave him more of a reason to see Isla and she could not deny him any longer.

While one situation seemed so hopeful, the other presented deeper problems and would undoubtedly end with more heartache than happiness. He had resolved to tell Scorpius about Astoria's declining health today and while he had immensely enjoyed Isabella's company, Draco was forced to put off speaking to his son until a later date. Which could only hurt the boy more should Astoria's condition worsen in the upcoming weeks.

"Dad! Dad! We got our bags!" Scorpius yelled as he bolted down the nearest aisle towards Draco, Isabella just behind him as she too grinned widely while clutching a clear plastic bag filled with sugary sweets. He smiled naturally and waited for the pair of them to stop before him as they glanced at each other excitedly, obviously happy with their finds.

"What did you get?" He asked lazily.

"We found a whole wall of jelly beans! And we got some licorice whips and -" Scorpius hurried as Isabella elbowed him to stand closer to Draco as they jumped on their feet in anticipation.

"We both got different things so we can share it all," she proudly stated. "That way we have twice as much."

"Now you are thinking like a Malfoy," he remarked with a grinning smirk, one hand pointing to his head as he nodded in approval. "Come on - let's pay for this and go. It's getting late."

Isabella and Scorpius eagerly rushed to stand in line as they huddled together and chattered about getting back to the castle. Draco was glad to see that they had enjoyed their day out with their father, whether they knew it or not, and was happy to pay an outrageous price for their nearly three pounds of candy. They both thanked him profusely and the small group was barely out of the door before they had opened their bags and were trading sweets. Draco nabbed a chocolate frog from Scorpius and popped the edible amphibian into his mouth as the children walked in front of him and led the way back to Hogwarts' front gates. He should have parted with them at the large, metal wall but his time with either of his children was precious and Draco selfishly followed them up the expansive front lawn to climb the stone steps to the main entrance. The doors opened automatically for the trio and a cool gust a wind came from the castle as they stood on the threshold.

"Alright children," Draco began and both blondes turned to face him with a slight trepidation at the sudden idea of leaving him.

Isabella reacted first and rushed forward to wrap her arms around his midsection, her freckled face pressed into his abdomen as she squeezed him harder than he would have thought and one hand came up to rest atop her curly head as she mumbled into his cloak, "Thank you for today, Mr. Malfoy. I had a good time with you and Scorpius." Then she pulled back, glanced up at him once, and then turned to momentarily stare at Scorpius before she hurried down the long corridor to the dungeons.

Scorpius was suddenly at a loss for words now that he was alone with his father so he too ran forward to toss his arms around Draco's waist in a quick hug. He wrapped one long arm around the boy's shoulders and the other hand ruffled his platinum locks as Scorpius held on for a moment longer.

"Thanks for coming today, dad. I've missed you," he genuinely said, his grip tightening for a long second before he stepped backwards and looked up at Draco.

"I've missed you too, kiddo," he responded truthfully with a gentle smile.

"Will you be coming back again?"

"I think I can arrange that," Draco said, his grin growing broader as the lines around his quicksilver eyes crinkled.

"You'll come for my first Quidditch match, right?" Scorpius questioned and he had to raise an eyebrow at the boy's confidence.

"So you're confident you'll be making the team then?"

"Come on dad," he retorted, a cocky sneer twisting his young lips. "Let's be serious here - I am a Malfoy."

Draco chuckled wholeheartedly and clapped a hand onto Scorpius' shoulder to pull him in for another tight hug. "Right you are." The boy closed his similar eyes and inhaled deeply the spicy scent of his father as Draco let a hand run through the familiar blonde locks. "I'll be back in a couple weeks then. And then again for your first match. You will make us all proud."

"Thanks dad," Scorpius said but pulled away from the embrace as he shifted the bag of candy from one hand to the other. "I gotta go - Isabella's waiting on me to go over the notes from class today."

Draco nodded and smiled still. "Take care of her, son. I can tell that she needs a friend like you."

"I will," Scorpius solemnly promised. "I love you, dad," he added before grinning widely and turning away to run down the corridor where Isabella had gone.

Draco watched him go with a fleeting, guilty regret that he should have talked to him about his mother today. But the fresh memories of time spent with his long lost daughter overrode the gripping emotions and elated his chest with hopeful happiness. Everything was falling into place - now there was only the issue left was Isla and she was sure to be putty in his hands in no time now that he had the trust of their child and the assurance that they could all find a life together.


End file.
